


It is Only Love Which Sets Us Free

by cathRN26



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Attempted Kidnapping, F/M, Falling In Love, Identity Swap, Injury, Inspired by Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper (2004), Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Violence, Mugging, Non-Graphic Violence, OH it's also kind of based on the original mark twain prince and the pauper, Slow Burn, idk i'll add more later, slow burn? slow burn, sounds about right, there will be a bit of pain
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 43,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24449563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathRN26/pseuds/cathRN26
Summary: James is a prince who is set to marry Princess Allura in order to secure an alliance between their kingdoms.  Lance is a commoner who lives in the village just outside the castle.  With lives so different, it was no wonder that the two had never met.However,fatedecreed they would.
Relationships: Adam & James Griffin (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura/Lance (Voltron), James Griffin & Lance (Voltron), James Griffin/Keith (Voltron)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 33





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> I don't personally see it but people seem to think Lance and James look alike so... Prince(ess?) and the Pauper AU!!! :D
> 
> Princess and the Pauper is my fav Barbie movie so it looks like we're doing this

It was all too much.

The spools of ribbon and fabric in various colors, swatches covering the tabletops. Flower arrangement after flower arrangement, shoved into his face to get a whiff of the overly fragrant smell, clogging his nostrils and overwhelming his senses. Mountains of delicious dishes that had yet to be tried, littering the many trays as a servant held a silver spoon to his mouth, one that had been there since his birth.

 _It was all too much_.

James shook his head as a bouquet of lilies were raised to his face, lifting a hand to ward off the flowers and food. “I think that’s enough for today,” he said quietly.

The queen turned to face him with a soft expression, concern written deep within her features. “Jamie, the wedding is in merely two weeks,” she said. “Don’t you think we should decide on the decorations as soon as possible?”

He sucked in a breath, and his nose stung with the smell of lilac and lilies. Burning. Suffocating. “I’m a bit tired, Mother. I’ll settle on a decision for everything tomorrow – I promise.”

“Alright,” she said with a gentle smile. “But I’ll be holding you to that.”

He chuckled – if it could even be called that – his eyebrows knit and his smile faltering, and the corners of his lips trembled with each second. “I don’t doubt it.”

They shooed away the servants and staff, clearing the room as James went to sit near the window. He brought his hand to the glass, his fingertips brushing across the surface as he traced the skyline in the distance and wished that maybe, just _once_ , he could go to the village –

“Prince James, you have another engagement gift.”

The door shut behind him as Adam crossed the room, handing off the delicately wrapped present to his mother, who eagerly took it from his hands to add to the ever-growing stack. And after the gift had been passed, Adam turned to him, his serious expression softening to one that only ever revealed itself to James.

He walked to join him at the window, carefully and cautiously, keeping his distance as he sensed the prince’s unease. “Do you need anything, my prince?”

James almost laughed at the formality, but he knew exactly what he meant to say.

_Are you okay?_

“I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you.”

His mother made her way to them, her hands clasped together and a warm smile on her lips. “This is exciting, isn’t it?” she asked. “Two weeks from now, my own son will be _married_. It seems like just yesterday, I held you in my arms, swaddled in a blanket with your father at my side.”

“I can’t believe it either,” James said. He hesitated, only a moment, before adding in a low voice, “I just wish I got to choose who I was marrying.”

The queen frowned, and he knew that despite the circumstances, his mother still felt sympathy for him – and he knew for a fact that despite her outside appearance, it hurt her just as much to give her son away against his wishes as it did him.

“I know, Jamie,” she said. “But we both know that this is the only way to protect our kingdom – our _people_ – from –”

“The Galra,” he finished, completely monotone. His voice droned off as if he had spoken those same words a hundred times, and he could’ve sworn that he did. “We need this alliance with Altea. I have to marry Princess Allura to make sure it happens.”

A hand caressed his cheek comfortingly, and he held her hand in his own, savoring every moment before she pulled away and he knew they had to return to their roles as Queen and Prince. It always took priority over mother and son.

“I’ll have the kitchen staff serve your favorite meal tonight,” she said as she walked away. “I love you, Jamie.”

“I love you, Mother.”

When she left, James exhaled a sigh of relief, leaning against the glass door with crossed arms. Beside him, Adam kept his eyes on the prince, his gaze never leaving him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

This time, he actually did allow himself to laugh – bitterly, coldly. “Of course, I’m not,” he whispered, his head tilted back until he faced the ceiling, staring at the constellations painted in gold above. “In _two weeks_ , I’m marrying a girl I’ve never met – how am I supposed to be okay with that?”

“I’m… not sure.”

“You, uh – You don’t _actually_ have to answer, Adam.”

He shrugged. “I _am_ supposed to answer your every beck and call – I’m just doing my job.”

“You’re such a goody-two-shoes, always following the rules, listening to everything people tell you to do,” James teased. “Don’t you get tired of it?”

“Don’t you?” The prince was taken aback, and Adam had a smug look on his face when he saw James’ jaw nearly drop to the floor. Then all too soon, his serious expression returned to him and his gaze locked onto James with concern. “I’m not the one agreeing to a marry a total stranger.”

“Adam – I _can’t_ refuse.” James frowned. “We _need_ this alliance with Altea. They have the military strength that we need to protect our borders. Without them, the Galra are going to conquer our lands and enslave our people. I can’t – I _won’t_ let that happen.”

“I know,” Adam admitted, turning away with a sad smile. “Which is why I wanted to surprise you with a trip to the village. You know, as one last taste of freedom before you resign yourself to a life of marriage.”

James eyes brightened, the light glinting in his irises. “Really? Don’t mess with me, Adam, I swear –”

“I’m serious,” he assured. “Ryan, Nadia, and Ina are all waiting in your room.”

“My room?”

“You’re going to need a disguise,” he pointed out, gesturing to James’ lavish clothing, woven of only the finest thread in the entire kingdom. “If you go out like that, you’ll draw too much attention.”

“Oh! Right.” James tugged nervously at the sleeves of his jacket, tracing along the golden embroidery that decorated its edges. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as we get you in some cheaper clothes.”

* * *

James peeked out the window of the carriage – more of a wagon, really, made of sturdy wooden planks rather than the beautifully forged metal he was used to – with his deep blue hood pulled over his head and dangling within the upper section of his visage. “Wow… Everything looks so different than the last time I was here.”

“To be fair, you haven’t visited the village for like, ten years,” Nadia pointed out. She suddenly gasped, pushing James over to stick her head out of the moving wagon. “Woah, look! They’ve got handmade headscarves on sale for only ten gold a piece! Ina, come with me!”

“Do I have a choice?” Ina asked in her typical tone, although she put up no resistance to being pulled by the arm as Nadia leapt from the back of the wagon, dragging her along as she went to check out the merchant booth they passed.

Ryan sighed. “I should probably make sure Nadia doesn’t spend all our money,” he said. “We’re supposed to be picking up fresh vegetables for the kitchen staff.”

“Go ahead, it’s alright,” James said with an encouraging smile. “I’ve got Adam.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“Come on, Ryan. I’m a prince, not helpless.”

Although he still seemed doubtful, Ryan relented. “Okay. Be careful.” He jumped off the back, slowly making his way to where Ina and Nadia stood, and James watched with amusement at their retreating figures.

It wasn’t as amusing to explain to Adam where all their royal staff had gone.

“They went _shopping_?” he gaped, the parchment in his hands crumpling as his mind wrapped around what James had told him. “They were supposed to come with us to help run errands.”

“Nadia saw some nice scarves,” James said with a shrug. “Who am I to tell her ‘no’?”

“Technically, you’re her _boss_ , which is the _perfect_ person to tell her ‘no’.”

“Oh please, like you could say ‘no’ to that face.”

“Of course, I can,” Adam said, deadpan. “I do it all the time. It’s the only reason they get anything done.”

James pouted. “Mean. Anyways, where to? The village is so big and so much has changed – I don’t even know where to start.”

Adam hummed to himself, looking down at the parchment and pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He seemed slightly troubled, slightly annoyed, but he shook it off. “Well, the three of them were _supposed_ to accompany you while I dealt with other matters, but now they’ve run off and decided to spend our food money on souvenirs.”

“If you need to work, I can just come with you,” James suggested. “I don’t mind, honestly. Just being here is good enough.”

“No, this was supposed to be something fun for you. I doubt you’d have fun running errands with me. Most of it is paperwork and negotiations.” He sighed, contemplating an idea before finally gathering the courage to voice it aloud. “Do you… Do you think you’ll be okay going alone?”

James’ eyes widened. “Around town?” Adam nodded. “Oh, sure! I think I’ll manage.”

“Are you entirely sure?” Adam asked. “You don’t know the town well, but I still want you to enjoy the day and –”

“I’ll be _fine_ , Adam. Quit worrying.” He stood back and straightened his stance, ushering Adam away with a wave of the hand. “Now, go attend to your duties. That’s an order.”

“As you wish, _my prince_ ,” Adam replied with sarcasm dripping from his words, and he gave James a mock bow to further their little charade. “We’ll meet back here an hour before sundown. In front of the Platt Inn.”

“Got it. Platt Inn.” James nearly jumped for joy, itching to get moving through the village. He spun on his toes and ran off with a skip in his step, waving to Adam as they parted ways and he was left on his own, a prince roaming through the labyrinthian streets of a small town.

* * *

“Mini quiches! Free mini quiches!”

Lance yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing through the streets and off the walls as he and Hunk flagged down random passersby.

“Would you like to sample a quiche, ma’am?” Hunk offered to a woman who came up to their booth. “If you like it, you can buy more for three gold a piece, a dozen for thirty gold.”

“And while you’re here,” Lance cut in, “you could purchase some top-quality produce! As fresh as they come, only of the highest grade, and grown just a mile outside of town on some of the richest soil known to man!”

The woman took a quiche from the tray Hunk held, her eyes lighting up as she popped it into her mouth. “Oh my, this is delicious!”

“That’s right, ma’am! My buddy here is the best cook in town – no, the best in the kingdom!” Lance slung an arm over Hunk’s shoulders, pulling him in close. “You can get more good food over at Hunk’s Kitchen, just down the street and around the corner. Big wooden sign – can’t miss it.”

“I’ll have to visit sometime with my family,” the woman noted. “I’ll take five – ooh, and a basket of strawberries.”

Lance smiled. “Right away, ma’am!” Once they finished packing the woman’s food and waved her goodbye, he patted Hunk on the back with a sigh. “Just a few more hours of this and then I can finally crash on my bed. My throat’s killing me with all this yelling.”

“You could try being less aggressive,” Hunk suggested.

“Hey, I’m just trying to be a good salesman here! You gotta be bold and loud to get the attention of all the potential customers. How do you expect to run a business if you’re too shy to advertise it?” He spotted a young man in the street, looking back and forth in awe of the market booths, a dark blue cloak pulled over his head. Quickly, he pointed out the man and whispered to Hunk, “See that guy? Watch and learn.”

He cleared his throat before calling to the man. “Excuse me, good sir, over here!”

The man turned to him with surprised eyes, lifting a hand to point at himself and raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, you sir! We’d like to offer you a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!”

“Once-in-a-lifetime?” the man repeated with a tilt to his head. He slowly made his way over to their booth, his long cloak trailing behind him and Lance could’ve sworn he saw it glint with gold thread. “Sounds interesting. What is it?”

“My friend and I are offering the chance to try one of his famous, home-made mini quiches for absolutely _free_!” He held out a single pastry to the man, daring him to take it.

The man plucked the tart from his hands and looked at it with curiosity. Tentatively, he took a small bite. “Mm!” he hummed. “This tastes amazing! It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

“That’s Hunk for you,” Lance said, and beside him, Hunk went red out of embarrassment and bashfulness. “He’s the best chef in the entire village. I bet he’s even better than the chefs in the castle.”

“Lance, don’t say that!” Hunk punched him playfully in the arm. “I highly doubt my cooking is _that_ good.”

The man in front of them shook his head. “No, I think your friend’s right,” he muttered, still munching happily on his quiche. “How much are they?”

“One for three gold, a dozen for thirty,” Hunk answered.

“How many do you have?” the man asked, brushing off his hands to rid them of any crumbs.

“I’m not sure – at least ten dozen, I think.”

“Then I’ll take ten dozen.” The man looked around at the booth, eyeing the variety of fruits and veggies with interest. “These look good, too – I’ll take half a pound of everything, as well.”

Hunk and Lance gawked at the man. They had meant to reel in a sale, but this was too much!

“Sir, that’s going to be over six hundred gold!” Hunk said. “Surely, you can’t seriously be spending it all on us.”

“Yeah, uh, could we offer you a discount?” Lance asked.

“Trust me, money won’t be an issue,” the man assured with a humorous chuckle. He reached underneath his cloak and pulled out a large money pouch, embroidered with a golden ‘G’, a griffin wrapped around it.

 _The royal crest_.

“You – You’re the _prince_ ,” Lance realized. “Holy shit – I mean, oh my god, you’re Prince James!”

Hunk nearly dropped his entire tray, setting it down on the counter just in time. “The prince just tried my food and _liked_ it – this is the best day of my life!”

“The prince just bought over six hundred gold worth of our food! We’re going to set for the next month!”

“Actually, I haven’t bought anything yet,” James said awkwardly. “And, uh, could you possibly keep your voices down? I don’t want too many people to recognize me.”

“Oh, right, sorry!” Hunk said. “I-I’ll get your mini quiches right away, your majesty!” He ran off down the street, back to the restaurant while Lance frantically began to bag the prince’s produce.

Watching the two vendors scramble to get his food was quite amusing, although it made him feel a little guilty. “You don’t have to make such a fuss over me,” James said, writing out the proper amount to cover his expenses. “I’m just like any other customer.”

“Yeah, sure, like any other customer would drop six hundred gold on groceries,” Lance commented with a roll of his eyes. “But seriously, we really appreciate this!”

“You’re welcome.” James handed him a piece of parchment, stamped with the royal seal and signed with his name. “Take this to the bank. They’ll withdraw the proper amount to pay for everything.”

Lance took the parchment as if it held his fate, careful not to crinkle it. “Thank you _so_ much, your majesty.”

“James is fine.” The prince paused, noticing Lance’s scandalized expression. “Or, uh, Prince James, if that makes you more comfortable.”

“I’ll go with Prince James. Calling you by your first name feels like I’m committing a crime against the royal family.”

He laughed, bringing a hand to his mouth to cover his smile, and it was no shock that he was raised in the castle. His mannerisms were too polite and proper and his clothes too fancy to have been of someone born in a small village like himself.

“So, what brings you into town?” Lance asked. “Shouldn’t you be – I don’t know – tending to your royal duties or something?”

“A friend surprised me with a trip to town as a little getaway,” James said. His hood had begun to fall from his head, revealing the brown hair and allowing the sunlight to glow a honey yellow in his steel blue eyes. “This is like one final hurrah before getting married off.”

“That’s right, you’re marrying the princess of Altea,” Lance recalled. He closed his eyes and sighed, dreaming about the luxurious life of a prince. “I heard she’s the most beautiful princess across all the lands – hair like starlight, eyes as blue as the endless ocean – you’re a lucky guy, Prince James.”

James didn’t respond, his gaze lowering and his hands balling into fists that gripped the fabric of his cloak, and Lance feared that he might’ve said something wrong. Perhaps the prince didn’t want someone musing over his fiancée, that must’ve been it. Oh no, Lance was going to _jail_ for this –

“I don’t feel to lucky,” James muttered, and Lance couldn’t decide whether to sigh in relief or offer sympathy.

He chose the latter. “Why? You love her, don’t you?”

“I’ve never even _met_ her.” James let the fabric fall from his hands and he brushed out the wrinkles, bringing up his eyes to meet Lance’s once more. “Our marriage was arranged between our parents to secure an alliance between Griffin and Altea. I’m sure she’s lovely, but I don’t want to marry someone that was chosen for me. I want to choose someone for myself.” In a small voice, timid and almost scared, he added, “I want the freedom to fall in love.”

“That’s – I didn’t realize. I’m so sorry.”

“No need to apologize.” James took a deep breath in and out, facing Lance with a smile that suddenly seemed so forced. “Enough about my problems. Tell me about yourself.”

Lance scoffed, rolling his eyes because how could he _possibly_ provide the story of an interesting life in comparison to the _prince_? “I mean, what is there to tell? I’ve lived here my whole life and I’m just trying to get by. The end.”

“What about your family?” James asked. “What do they do? How did you and your friend meet? How’d you become business partners? There’s plenty to tell.”

“Oh, well…” Lance pondered. “My family owns a huge farm just outside the village. They grow all this produce and I just sell it. I’ve known Hunk since we were little kids – we went to school together – and we decided to share a house to save money. A while ago, Hunk decided to open a restaurant, so we pooled our money for it. Now it’s just me, Hunk, and our other friend, Pidge.”

“Pidge?”

“Yeah. Short, smart, wears glasses – that’s Pidge.” He sighed, continually packing the prince’s produce in a monotonous manner, as if it were the only thing he knew how to do. His hands moved almost automatically, so used to the action that he didn’t even need to give it any thought. “Sometimes, I wish I could just leave the village though. You know, really live life, go on adventures, see the world – That’s what I want.”

“You wouldn’t miss your friends?” James asked.

“In a perfect reality, they’d come with me! But, that’s just a dream, I guess.” He reached for another bag, only to find that there were none left. Lance looked around the booth in confusion. “Huh, I could’ve sworn I had enough. Hang on – I think they’re under here somewhere.” He ducked down behind the booth, rummaging around to find enough sacks to hold the produce the prince was still waiting on.

James stood idly by as he waited, occupying himself with watching the townsfolk as they went about their day, so carelessly and free that he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealously. No one to worry about but themselves, living in the moment – _That_ was what James wanted.

As he pulled down his hood, imagining himself as part of the village, the townsfolk, just another person living their life in this small community and breathing in the fresh air of the afternoon, he was all too soon snapped out of his distant reality.

And all too harshly, too.

He yelped as he felt someone jump onto his back, ruffling his hair and filling his ears with a contagious laugh that he never heard before.

“Come on, Lance, you’re not even trying anymore,” the person teased. It was a girl, younger than he was, but he failed to catch a glimpse of her face as his bangs fell messily in front of his eyes.

From behind the booth, Lance popped his head over the counter. “What are you talking about?” he asked, and his face immediately morphed into one of panic, the color draining from his skin and his pupils nearly gone. “Fuck – Pidge, get off of him!”

“Lance?” the girl – Pidge – said in confusion. “Wait, if you’re there, then who’s Lance 2.0?”

“Pidge, shut the fuck up!” he hissed. “That’s the prince!”

“Huh?!” She slid off his back, yanked on his hood to turn him around, and felt the blood in her veins run cold as she caught sight of the prince’s face. “Holy shit! No way!”

“ _Yes_ way – what have you _done_?”

Pidge quickly brushed off his clothing and tried her best to fix his hair, contemplating for a moment if she should lick her fingers to style it back in place of a gel before deciding that of course she shouldn’t, this was _royalty_ and she couldn’t possibly use her spit to fix this mess of hair she made –

“I’m _so sorry_ , your royal-princely-ness!”

James pushed her away just enough to give him room to breathe, which was difficult considering how terribly persistent and feisty she seemed to be for someone of her stature. “It’s alright, it was an honest mistake –”

“I have the mini quiches!” Hunk announced, running back to the booth with a large box of pastries. He seemed out of breath from the run. “What did I miss?”

Lance directed an accusatory finger at Pidge, who was still borderline harassing the prince in an attempt to fix his mussed hair. “Pidge _tackled_ the prince!”

“She _what_?!”

“I didn’t know!” she defended. “I thought he was Lance!”

“We don’t look anything alike!”

“From the back, you kind of do!”

Hunk set down the box and quirked an eyebrow at them, his eyes flitting between Lance and James before widening in surprise at a revelation. “Hey, Lance, I think Pidge is right. You… You kind of do look like each other.”

Both turned to him in alarm. “You two are delusional,” Lance stated. “I mean, sure, we both have brown hair and blue eyes and are way too handsome to even be looked upon by mortal eyes, but –”

He stopped when he felt a hand grip his chin, choking on his words when he was met with the prince’s face just inches away from his own, those blue – violet? – orbs boring into him with an unreadable countenance. “Hm, I can see it,” James mumbled.

“Really?” Lanced squeaked.

“If I was a little tanner and cut my hair different, I think we could pass as siblings,” he said jokingly.

Lance chuckled. “Wow, I always knew I had the looks of royalty.” He swept back his hair in an extravagant manner, the prince laughing in response.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Everyone turned to the owner of the voice – a man who appeared to be in his late twenties with light brown hair and a pair of dark rimmed glasses sitting on his nose – and he did _not_ look happy.

The prince seemed to recognize him, offering a welcoming smile and a wave. “Adam! Look, I met some of the locals!”

“Yeah, I see that,” Adam said, scanning over the situation with a cold and calculating gaze. When his eyes met Lance’s, there was a strange mix of emotions that swirled within them for just a split second, from recognition to confusion and interest – then it disappeared, being drowned in that frozen sea of amber. “What’s with all the commotion though?” His eyes narrowed. “And why does your hair look like that?”

The other three all gulped. Pidge was going to get arrested, no doubt.

“It’s nothing, my hood probably messed it up,” James said, brushing it off, and they all let out the breath they were holding. “Anyways, you have to try these mini quiches; they’re incredible!”

“Later.” Adam held up a hand to stop him as he tried to feed one to him, instead directing his attention to the piles of fresh produce that were bagged for them. “What… What’s with all the food?”

“I, uh, may have bought it all?”

Adam groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, but when he noticed James’ dejected and slouched posture, his annoyance melted away. “You know what, it’s fine. Besides, Nadia ended up wasting all their money on some street vendor game, so it seems like you handled getting the food the kitchen staff needed.”

“Great! Oh, not the thing about Nadia, though.”

“I’ll bring the wagon over here to pick all this up,” Adam said, and he took the box of pastries as he began walking away. “Say ‘bye’ to your little friends, here; we’re leaving once we pack all this up.”

James nodded, though he seemed reluctant to go so soon. “Goodbye, it was nice to meet you! Lance, Hunk and Pidge, right?” He looked around at the booth one final time, a hand on his chin as the stood thoughtfully. “I’ll tell my mother about your family farm. Oh, and your restaurant,” he added, turning to Hunk. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be providing for the castle from now on.”

“Y-You’re serious?” Hunk asked. “We… I could be cooking for the castle.”

“Sure,” James said with a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. “I’d be happy to eat your cooking every day, and I’m sure everyone else would be, too.”

“Thank you!” Lance said. “We’re really honored!”

“You’re welcome. I’ll send someone for you once everything is settled, okay? Probably after the wedding.”

Hunk nodded. “Thank you so, so much. Have a safe trip back!”

James offered a kind smile as he walked away with Adam to fetch their wagon, pulling his hood back up to cover his face.

“Did you really mean all that?” Adam asked in a quiet voice.

“Of course, I did. I wouldn’t lie to them about sending someone for them. That’s just mean.”

“No,” Adam said, “I meant, is his food really that good?”

James poked him playfully in the arm. “Well, if you had just accepted the quiche I offered, then you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Adam pursed his lips and turned away. “Fine. Be that way.”

Meanwhile, Pidge stood with her arms crossed, still in shock over everything that took place. “That was really the prince?”

“Yeah,” Lance said, scratching his head. He held up the parchment that James had given him before, the royal seal glimmering under the afternoon sun. “He even left a check for eight hundred gold!”

“Eight hundred?” Hunk said, and after all that had happened, he was surprised he was still standing. “That’s a two hundred gold tip!”

While the other two continued to gawk over the immense amount of money they just earned, Pidge let out a long whistle. “He must be royalty, alright. No one else would throw away that much money on a bunch of vegetables.”

* * *

“You should go to sleep,” Ryan said softly, a warm hand resting on James’ shoulder. “It’s late.”

“I just got to the good part, though,” James pouted, craning his neck to look up at Ryan behind him.

“Finish in the morning,” Nadia grumbled, curled on the floor of the library with a collection of pillows and blankets. “You’ve been reading that for hours.”

James hid behind the cover of his book. “It’s a good novel…”

“Ina could just tell you how it ends, if you really want to know. Right, Ina?”

“That’s correct,” she said. “In chapter twenty-three, the protagonist faces his –”

“Stop that!” James whined. “It’s no fun if you just tell me what happens.”

Ryan stood up, his hand leaving James’ shoulder as he instead used it to shake Nadia. “Let’s go. It’s late.”

“But, James –”

“James can stay in the library by himself,” Ryan said. “Let the prince read in peace.”

Nadia slowly got up, Ina after her, as they left the James to his own devices in the corner of the castle library. Before Ryan to follow, James grabbed his sleeve, whispering a quick “thank you”, then released him to his chambers.

It was nice sitting in the library on his own. It was lonely, yes, but there was an odd sense of peace and tranquility that he could only find in the empty room, lit only by the glow of a single candle and the moon. He could smell the crisp, natural scent of parchment, the feeling of flipping from page after page intoxicating in the night hours. It was his only reprieve from his princely duties that he could find within the castle walls.

He sat, a quilt wrapped around his shoulders as he read carefully over the words on each page, eagerly awaiting whatever the next one held within its text. His finger slid under the corner of the paper, trailing down as he prepared to turn it over –

 _Meow_.

James’ head shot up, and he quickly scanned the library as far as his vision could see for what may have caused the noise.

“Hello?” he called out, but there was no answer. “Hm, weird.”

Just as he returned his attention to the book in his hands, he heard it again.

 _Meow_.

A distant meow of a cat. James set down his book and grabbed the candle, holding the quilt around him tightly. He thought hard about where the sound had come from, letting his feet move without much thought.

The meows continued, growing ever more frequent as he went through the castle halls absentmindedly, admiring the art on the walls as if he hadn’t seen them a thousand times before.

He saw a dark shape in the distance, and as he squinted to get a closer look, it faced him with large, yellow eyes.

It _was_ a cat! A black one with gray markings, its ears and head tinged with blue and orange.

James stepped closer only for it to run away, still meowing, as if it wanted him to follow. He couldn’t recall anyone in the castle with a cat that resembled that one, realizing that it might have been a stray that had found its way inside and could no longer get out.

He ran after it, nearly stumbling over his feet as he went down the stairs and out towards the back gardens of the castle. The cat had hidden behind a hedge trimming – one of a majestically trimmed griffin, many of which littered the area – and James slowed to approach it with cautious steps.

“Come here, sweetie, I won’t hurt you,” he beckoned. The cat seemed adamant on staying where it was, watching him with careful eyes as it backed further behind the hedge.

James set down his candle and quilt as he knelt in the grass, his arms open. He softly clicked his tongue, smiling as he saw it come out and crawl gradually closer.

It was a beautiful cat, really. Its eyes were like the moon and it looked so graceful in the dark of midnight. He felt his heart flutter as it sniffed tentatively at his fingers, a small tongue sticking out to lick at him before nudging its head into his palm.

He pet it gently, smiling at the sound of its purring, and James thought of how nothing could possibly ruin this moment.

That is, until he heard the crunching of grass behind him, and before he could even think to let out a yell of alarm, a gag was pulled taut against his mouth, and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny how I'm starting a new multi-chapter fic when I still have a handful of unfinished ones... My goal this summer is to get around to finishing some of them so hopefully we'll see some completed ones soon! :)


	2. II

The early morning wake-up call was _not_ appreciated.

When Adam heard the banging on his door that morning, he thought it must’ve been a mistake. Everyone knew not to wake him up, that he’d do so on his own accord precisely at nine a.m. And yet, when the sun had barely risen over the horizon, someone was sent to his bedchambers to rouse him with a loud knocking.

He grumbled as he got dressed. He grumbled as he was ushered down the halls. And he grumbled when he was pushed into James’ bedroom.

Figures, James must’ve had some sort of issue getting ready that morning. He loved the prince like family, but for the love of god, he could spare to be a little less pampered –

His complaints all faded when he saw that it wasn’t James, but the queen who sat on the plush bedding, which seemed to have been untouched since Adam last saw it the day before. It took him an agonizingly long second to realize that all three of James’ personal attendants were also in the room, along with the Head Admiral of the Royal Guard – Admiral Sanda.

It took an even more agonizingly long second for him to realize that the queen was crying.

“My queen?” Adam said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had clouded the room. “May I ask what is wrong?”

She sucked in a breath, her body shuddering, and it was a miracle she was even still conscious. “It’s James,” she sobbed, and she dabbed away the tears that flowed freely from her eyes. “He’s run away!”

 _What?_ “Run away?”

Admiral Sanda stepped forward, offering a small letter to him with a shaky hand. “This – This was left by the prince,” she explained in a low voice, as if she herself were on the verge of tears. “It explains how he’s run away to escape the wedding.”

Adam stared at the letter, an orange wax seal hanging from its edge, a ‘J’ pressed into the top. He opened it, his eyes scanning over the lettering that looked suspiciously like the prince’s and yet something still seemed off. Even the signature at the bottom was a near perfect forgery, but he couldn’t explain what was wrong with it.

“Admiral, what’s being done about this?”

“I’ve sent out numerous teams to search for him. So far, nothing has turned up, but if he’s still in the kingdom, my men will find him,” she stated.

“Good.” Adam looked to the queen, still seated on her son’s bed and clutching _something_ in her hands.

It was James’ crown, embedded with diamonds and citrine that glittered like stars.

“Nadia, Ina – please tend to the queen. Make her some tea while we sort this out,” he ordered. The pair quickly nodded and rushed to the queen’s side, delicately helping her up and out of the room and whispering words of encouragement to her. “Admiral, I want an update on any and all findings regarding James’ whereabouts, ready in an hour. Even if you have nothing, I expect a report on the search’s progress.”

Admiral Sanda gave a quick bow. “Of course, sir. I’ll get right on it.” She spun on her heel, her boots clacking against the marble floors as she left.

“And Ryan,” Adam began, turning to the final one in the room, “I want to ask a question.” He held up the letter that was supposedly left by the prince. “James didn’t write this, did he?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“I knew it,” Adam muttered, opening it once again to pore over its words. “The handwriting is close, but not perfect. And there’s the obvious fact that James would _never_ run away, at least not without telling someone, and certainly not without good reason. He’s not the type to turn his back on his kingdom.” He frowned, his nail scratching against the edge of the parchment. “There’s something else about this, too, something that I can’t quite put my finger on…”

“Smell it,” Ryan said, completely stone-faced.

Adam sent him a look, and with Ryan urging him to continue, he brought the paper to his nose to take a whiff, and all of a sudden, everything made sense. “Lavender,” he noted. He tasted acid on his tongue at the dark revelation. “James scents his letters with rose. That means –”

“Someone must have kidnapped him.”

“This isn’t good,” Adam said. “Whoever did this must not want the marriage to go through, and in turn, the alliance.”

“Who do you think is responsible?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t know, but we can’t let the alliance fail.” He gritted his teeth at the thought that somewhere, James was probably tied up, held captive, imprisoned – He shook his head to erase the thought. “James was willing to give up his own happiness so it could happen. We have to make sure it works.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow in confusion. “How?”

“I have an idea,” Adam said, a sly smile on his lips. “We’re taking a trip to town.”

* * *

When James finally came to, he realized distantly that he was in a bed, but it wasn’t _his_ bed.

He startled awake, nearly falling from the mattress out of shock. Nervously, he checked himself for any injuries, letting out a breath of relief when he found none.

With wide eyes, he scanned the dark room, noticing the lack of a window or anything to tell the time with, and it left his eyes feeling strained from having to look through such a dim space. There was barely any furniture – merely a single bed and a desk with a chair – and that which was inside was lackluster at best. A closet was built into the other side of the room, but it lacked any clothing, it’s hangers empty of all but dust. The door that James assumed was the way out was reinforced with steel, and he didn’t need to be a locksmith to know that it would be near impossible to break through.

This was ridiculous. He couldn’t believe this was happening – him, getting kidnapped? What sort of twisted punishment was this? He said that he wanted to escape the wedding, but not like this.

The _wedding_.

If he was missing, then it would be called off. The alliance would be called off.

The kingdom of Griffin would be doomed.

James _had_ to get out of there.

“Hello?” James said loudly. “Is anyone out there?”

He heard muffled shuffling from the other side of the door. “Hey, it sounds like the prince is awake!” said a voice, and James could detect a slight accent from it.

“Who _cares_ , we just need to make sure he’s alive and locked up,” said a second voice.

James pressed his face against the door, flinching at the cold metal on his skin. “Excuse me, but where am I?”

“Not telling you, princey,” said the second voice again. “You’re not leaving that room.”

He frowned, knitting his eyebrows in thought. “Could I get some food? Or at least some water?”

“You heard him, Throk, get the man some food.”

The first voice – Throk was his name – scoffed indignantly. “And why can’t you get it for him, Hepta?”

“Because you’re _closer_. Now hurry up before he starts talking again.”

There were footsteps approaching from outside, and James readied himself to attack, a triumphant grin on his face as he –

James yelped as a tray was suddenly slid through a slot in the door, falling to the ground at his feet with a loud clatter. There was a roll of bread with some jam – no knife, figures – and a waterskin for him to drink from.

“Nice try, little prince,” Throk mocked. “You won’t get out that easily. We’re not opening this door for any reason.”

He heard the footsteps retreat, and James stared at the bread on the floor with a pout on his lips. This was a far cry than the usual feast he was used to.

Without another word, James plopped down onto the floor and snatched up the bread, digging his teeth into the stale roll as he plotted for his escape.

* * *

“The prince was _what_?!” Lance shrieked.

“Kidnapped,” Adam said, his voice completely exasperated at having to repeat it for what felt like the _millionth_ time. “He was kidnapped. We’ve gone over this.”

“I know, it’s just – Do you know who did it?”

Adam’s hands tightened around his cup, and he glared into the blackness of his coffee. They sat at a table in Hunk’s restaurant, which was luckily closed for the day. Behind the counter, Hunk and Pidge pretended not to listen while peering at them from the back, and Ryan stood at attention near the entrance.

“I don’t know,” Adam said. “Someone who doesn’t want James to marry Allura.”

Lance twiddled his fingers, his body tense and his mind going haywire. “Do you think… he’s still alive?”

Adam scoffed, taking a sip from his mug. “Of course, he is.”

“How do you know? What if he’s… he’s…”

“He’s alive,” Adam assured. “If they meant to assassinate him, they would’ve done so and left his body behind. They wouldn’t go through the trouble of forging a note.” He tsked. “They need him alive. They’re planning something.”

“So, where do I come in?” Lance asked.

“I need you to pretend to be the prince.”

He blinked a few times. No, he must’ve misheard, because there was no way Adam had said that.

“Pretend to be the prince?!”

Adam simply nodded. “Exactly. I need you to take James’ place until I can find him.”

“But that – That’s treason!” He immediately stood up, his chair scraping against the floorboards as he pushed it away. “If I get caught, I’ll end up in prison. Or worse, executed!”

“Then don’t get caught.” Adam set down his mug a little rougher than he had meant to, slamming it against the tabletop and sending the coffee sloshing near the rim. “Look, I know it’s risky, but we _can’t_ afford to lose this alliance with Altea. I need time to investigate what happened to James, so I need you to be his stand-in until we can locate him.”

“How am I supposed to be him? I don’t know the first thing about being a prince and I’ve only met him once!”

“If you have any questions, ask Ryan or the other attendants,” Adam said, gesturing towards the man behind him. “They’ve been by his side since they were little kids. If you need to know anything about him, they’re the ones you’ll go to.”

Lance felt sweat bead down his face. All of this was too overwhelming. Stand in for the prince?

“And if I refuse?” Lance gulped in fear. “What then?”

“Then nothing. I’m not going to force you to comply. But _please_ consider,” Adam pleaded, and in his eyes were the first sense of warmth that Lance had yet to see come from the man, “the fate of the entire kingdom might be riding on this.”

He shook his head. “No, I – I can’t do that. I mean, I’ve got to the restaurant to think about, my friends, my family –”

“Lance, don’t be stupid!” Pidge yelled from behind the counter, and he whipped around to gawk at her. “This is your chance to make a difference, to do something that really matters. You have the opportunity to help save the prince _and_ the kingdom, and you’re going to turn it down?”

“Pidge is right,” Hunk agreed. “This is worth more than any of us. I think you should do it… After all, isn’t this the kind of adventure you’ve always dreamed of?”

“What about you guys?” Lance pointed out. He was reluctant to leave them behind. They were his best friends; what kind of person would he be if he left them for a life of luxury, no matter how short-lived it would be? “The restaurant, our shop –”

Hunk cut him off, something unusual and rare for the man who was typically so soft-spoken. “Pidge and I will hold down the fort while you’re gone. Don’t worry about us.”

“Yeah, and with how much you guys made from the prince’s purchase yesterday, we can afford to hire more staff,” Pidge said.

“We’ll compensate you for the trouble,” Adam added. “You’ll get one hundred gold for each day you act as the prince.” He took a step closer, his glasses reflecting the light and masking his eyes behind them, making it impossible to read his expression. “So, I’ll ask again. Will you please pretend to be James in order to secure our alliance with Altea?”

Lance sucked in a breath, straightening his stance and steeling his gaze forward, tight fists at his side as a wave of resolve washed over him. “Yes,” he said, and the resolute determination was clear in his voice.

* * *

James never would’ve guessed that being someone’s prisoner would be a great way to get to know someone.

It had only been a few hours – or at least, that’s how long he estimated it had been – but while being locked up within that darkly lit room with nothing to do but gradually plan a way out, he had actually learned quite a bit about each of his captors.

Throk was arrogant, stubborn, and the noisier of the two. He seemed to expect the world to hand him everything he wanted on a silver platter, musing over how it must be deserved after having managed to trap the prince of Griffin. He described the riches he would receive to his comrade – who couldn’t possibly care less, if his tone was anything to judge by – and how it would boost his already extensive military career.

Hepta, on the other hand, was quieter. He listened to Throk drone on and only interjected every so often to correct a bit of misinformation that may have fallen from the other’s lips, but he otherwise kept to himself. Despite his lack of speech, James could tell that every word he spoke was laced with an underlying desire, ravenous and wicked.

While the two remained outside, oblivious to what was going on within the room, James worked silently on his escape. He had pulled the clothes hangers from where they were hung, carefully pulling apart the metal wire and weaving it together into a makeshift weapon. It was narrow, sharp, and though a bit flimsy, it was a substantial replacement. And most importantly, it was all he had.

The wire twisted together resembled a rope of metal, and James was pleasantly surprised by how durable it was. He rolled up his sleeve and carefully lined it up with his arm, pulling the fabric over to cover it until only the very end was still exposed, pressed against the palm of his hand.

James took a quick moment to calm his nerves, breathing in and out through his nose as he cleared his mind of all but the mission laid out before him.

He banged his fist against the metal door, his voice breaking out into a sob that he hoped sounded convincing to his captors.

“H-Help!” he cried, oozing with desperation. “Please, you have to help me! There – There’s something in here!”

“Quit your crying,” Hepta snapped. “There’s nothing there.”

“I-I swear, there is!” James screamed, and his voice cracked. “I-It just a-attacked me! It was like a dark shadow; its eyes were gold – I don’t know if I’ll survive if I spend a moment longer alone with it! Please, help!”

“Your acting is quite impressive, but it’ll take more than a few tears to fool us,” Throk jeered.

James rolled his eyes and decided to move on to stage two. He let out a bloodcurdling scream, one that echoed off the walls and left a ringing in his own ears – and from the startled shifting of furniture outside, he knew it had thrown them off-guard as well – then he knocked over the desk chair as he fell to the floor, feigning unconsciousness.

“What the hell was that?!” Throk asked.

“I don’t know, maybe it was Santa Claus visiting early this year,” Hepta said sarcastically. The sound of a slap could be heard through the door, and James had to stifle a laugh. “Idiot, what else would it be! That was the prince!”

“Well, what do we do?”

“Go check on him!”

The sound of metal sliding was heard, and James remained as still as possible, his hand gripping the cold metal wire that chilled his skin.

“It looks like he passed out,” Throk reported.

“ _Shit_. He might’ve hit his head.”

“What now?”

There was a hesitant pause. “Open the door. We have to make sure the dumb bastard didn’t kill himself.”

The door clicked open with the sound of multiple locks, and James closed his eyes, leaving them cracked open just enough that he could still see a narrow line of vision.

A rough hand buried itself in his hair, yanking his head up and twisting his neck in an uncomfortable position, and he let his body fall slack as one of the men examined him, the other standing by the doorway.

“It doesn’t look like he’s hurt.” It was Throk who held his head as if he were a ragdoll, scowling as he checked for any injuries. “Probably just scared himself and fainted.”

“Good, we need him alive.” Hepta motioned with a single finger for the other to follow. “Now let’s go.”

As Hepta turned his back and Throk lowered his guard, that was when James decided to strike.

He moved quickly, yanking the wire from his sleeve and wrapping it around Throk’s neck, pulling it taut as he pushed the man against the floorboards and stomped his boot to the base of his spine.

“What the –” Hepta spun around, drawing a sword from where it was sheathed at his hip and lunged at him.

James knew he couldn’t hold down Throk for much longer – the man was probably two heads taller and had a significant amount of muscle – so he sent a kick to his head for good measure before jumping out of the way, sending Hepta tumbling on top of his own comrade.

Then, he ran.

The prince sprinted out the door as fast as his legs would carry him and he burst out of what seemed to be an isolated cabin in the woods, but he didn’t dare turn around to get a closer look. He heard his two kidnappers yelling behind him – they were slow to recover and get up, but with their advantage in height, James knew he didn’t have a moment to spare lest they were to catch up with him – and he continued running, his lungs screaming for reprieve as an all but crippling burn shot through his entire body at the exertion.

He found himself approaching a dirt road, Throk and Hepta’s yelling so distant that he couldn’t even make out what they were saying, and he sped towards the lone wagon that traveled on it.

“Sir!” he gasped, stumbling onto the pathway and catching the attention of the alarmed man who sat steering it. “Please, I – I need to hide. Can you please help?”

Now that he was looking more closely, the man didn’t seem _half_ as surprised as he should’ve been. “Why would I do that?” he scoffed, and he turned his attention back to the road, whipping the reins to signal for the horses to continue moving.

“No, wait, you don’t understand! These men – they tried to kidnap me!” James begged, jumping onto the front to grab the man’s arm, and it was a miracle he wasn’t thrown off then and there.

“Get off me, psycho!” the man yelled, baring his teeth and glaring at him with a pair of dark blue-violet eyes. “You’re just going to cause me trouble.”

“I’ll pay you!” James blurted. He could hear the others getting nearer. “A hundred gold, just for hiding me!”

The man stopped, interest swirling in his irises as he looked James up and down, his gaze catching on the intricate metallic embroidery that decorated his clothes and that he _knew_ only someone of the highest social class could afford. “Two hundred gold.”

“Deal!” James agreed. They were running out of time for negotiations, and money wasn’t a bother to him anyways.

“Alright,” the man said, shaking James off and gesturing behind him. “Get on.”

* * *

“Stop!” Throk yelled, approaching the wagon that occupied the beaten dirt path. “What are you doing here?”

The man who sat at its reins stared on as if he were bored, uninterested, and certainly not intimidated by the sword that was pointed towards him.

“I’m a blacksmith,” he said. “I’m delivering this shipment of ore back to my shop. Now, can you move? You’re kind of blocking the road.”

Hepta placed a hand on Throk’s shoulder, sliding it down to his arm as he forced the other to lower his weapon. “Sir, you haven’t seen anyone pass by this way, have you?”

“No one other than you,” the man said with a shrug.

“Not even briefly?”

“Nope.”

He scowled. “Check the cart,” he hissed, venom dripping from his words.

Throk did as he was told, moving to the back of the wagon with his sword still drawn, Hepta right behind him. The man had hopped down to join them, looking on with an unreadable expression as Throk placed a hand on the bar keeping the back doors shut and lifted it to reveal –

Piles of iron and steel stacked neatly atop one another.

Hepta gritted his teeth as he watched Throk jump inside, the wagon bouncing slightly from his weight, and he overturned a few of the metal piles only to find no signs of their escaped prisoner.

“Are you done here?” the travelling man finally asked, his arms crossed and annoyance rising to his face. “I’ve got a schedule to keep.”

“Let’s go,” Hepta grumbled, turning around sharply and whipping his arm in anger. “He can’t have gone far.”

As the two walked off, the man looked on after them, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he jumped back onto the wagon, took the reins, and headed forward.

* * *

“Okay, I think we’re far enough away,” the mystery man announced, slowing the wagon to a stop. “You can come out now.”

“Oh, thank the stars,” James said, and he let go of the metal railing on the bottom of the wagon, falling flat on the dirt. “I thought my arms would give out on me any second.”

The man jumped down from where his sat to kneel on the ground, bending over to look at James underneath the wagon and offer an arm to help him out. “To be honest, I’m pretty impressed you lasted this long. I was afraid you were going to fall when that tall lanky one jumped inside from the back.”

James took his hand, allowing himself to be dragged out from under and between the wheels, cringing as he felt the fabric of his clothing scuff from the dry dirt. “Thanks again for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you –”

“Keith,” the man introduced, his stern expression and lack of a proper smile reminiscent of Adam. “And, you are…?”

“Prince James of Griffin,” he said proudly. “I’ll be sure to compensate you for your help once I’m back home at the castle.”

Keith’s mouth opened in sudden awe, his eyes like saucers and his eyebrows raising to disappear underneath his messy bangs, and James smiled patiently as he let the man take in the grandeur of the situation –

And he burst into a fit of laughter, tears at the corners of his eyes as he shot James a look of disbelief, and the prince was left with _his_ mouth wide open.

“Oh yeah, sure, like the prince would be running through woods near the Galran border.” Keith wiped a tear away, standing and dusting off his hands, not bothering to offer one to James a second time. “That was a good laugh, but I asked for your name.”

“That _is_ my name,” James said defensively, rushing to his feet. “I _am_ the prince, and I was _kidnapped_.”

They stood at an impasse, James’ face like steel while Keith waited for him to give up on his little joke, and it wasn’t until they stared long enough for his eyes to sting that Keith understood that the strange man in front of him was being completely serious.

“You’re not joking, are you?” he asked, only to be met with a shake of the head. “Fuck – They kidnapped you?”

“Right out of the castle, yes,” James said. “Last night, they lured me to the garden and gagged me, and when I woke up, I was in a dark room. It was part of some cabin further in the woods.”

Keith scratched the back of his head in thought. “How did they lure you out of the castle?”

“Oh, uh –” James turned away, lifting a hand to his mouth in the hopes of masking some of his embarrassment. “I might’ve seen a cat and followed it outside to pet it.”

“… You’re kidding, right?”

“Anyways,” the prince interjected, drawing the subject away to one of more important matters, “I need to get back to the castle as soon as possible. I’m supposed to marry Princess Allura of Altea soon, and –”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Keith said as he went back to the front of the wagon. “You want to get back to your fiancée so you can live a cushy life together. Well, good luck with that.”

James blinked owlishly at him. “Wait, you’re not helping me?”

“I said I’d hide you from those guys back there, not be your royal escort back to the castle.” Keith grabbed the reins and urged the horses to move at a slow trot. “You can send me my check through the mail. Safe travels,” he said with a wave.

“Wait – Hold on just a second,” James called. He walked briskly beside the moving wagon, his boots kicking up dirt as he followed on foot. “I asked you to help and you said that you would.”

“You asked for help to _hide_. Our business is done.”

James huffed, stomping his feet into the dirt as he came to a halt. “I’ll pay you even more for taking me back to the castle.”

Keith brought the wagon to a stop. “How much?” he asked, turning back to look at the prince over his shoulder.

“Name your price,” James offered boldly. “I’ll pay whatever you ask.”

He smirked. “Ten thousand gold,” he said, and he waited for the prince’s reaction to such an outrageous amount.

“Deal.” His face never broke, his resolve unwavering.

That was a surprise. Keith raised his eyebrows with amusement. “You’re serious? Ten thousand gold just for giving you a ride home?”

“Yes. I need this. _My kingdom_ needs this.”

“Hm.” Keith turned back around to face forward, his expression indifferent. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

“Great!”

He felt the wagon jostle a bit when James gently shoved him to the side as the prince decided to take a seat right next to him, his arm pressed against his own with absolutely no regard for personal space.

“Uh, what are you doing?” Keith asked, and it took all his restraint not to just shove the prince over himself.

“Sitting?” James said, tilting his head as if it were the only logical answer. “There’s nowhere else to.”

“You could sit in the back,” he suggested, but by the tone of his voice, it sounded much more like a soft demand. “With the metal.”

“That doesn’t sound very comfortable.”

“ _I’m_ not very comfortable with you pressed against my side.”

“If I scoot over, I’ll fall off.”

Keith narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk,” James shot back, and his eyes became heavy lidded as his expression gave way for exasperation. “I’m not paying you to complain.”

“You haven’t paid me yet at all.”

* * *

When Lance was first snuck into the castle, he wasn’t expecting Adam to immediately abandon him. He should’ve assumed that the man had other matters to attend to, but that didn’t make him any less nervous.

And the girl who kept squeezing and touching his face was _not_ helping.

“Woah, Adam wasn’t kidding,” she mused aloud, twisting his head left and right as she got a better look. “You really do look like James!”

“Nadia, that’s enough,” Ryan said, tired of her shenanigans. “Give the man some space.”

“Oh, right. Sorry about that.” She pulled back her hands and took a step back to get a better look. “Hm, you look to be the same height, same build… Yeah, I can work with this.”

Lance exhaled, glad to have his personal bubble of space back. “So, uh, what’s the plan for turning me into the prince?”

Nadia clapped her hands together with a devious smile, stretching them forward as she cracked her knuckles. “I’m _so_ glad you asked! First things first, we need to make you look as much like James as possible. Ina, could you give us a rundown on his physical traits compared to James’?”

“Of course,” said the fair-haired girl beside her.

“Ryan,” Nadia added quickly, “take notes.”

Ina stepped closer to him, leaning forward to get a good look at his face with light blue eyes. “Hm, overall, the resemblance is uncanny,” she began, her voice monotone as she listed off her findings one by one. “Your nose and lips are nearly the same. Your eye shape is similar, though your eyelashes are lighter than his. James’ eyebrows are also thicker than your own, but the shape of your brows are close enough to pass as an overly-plucked version.

“Your jawline and cheekbones are less defined, but that can be easily fixed with make-up. Your hair color perfectly matches his, but the cut is completely different. Luckily, your hair is shorter than his, so that could be explained by saying you trimmed it as a disguise. Then there’s the obvious difference in your complexion – However, it’s a known fact that the prince tans easily, so perhaps we could claim that it’s merely a result of being in the sun too long.

“The only thing we can’t fix is your eye color,” she stated. “James’ are blue _sometimes_ , but they tend to change color with the lighting. We’ll just have to hope no one notices.” Ina moved back, folding her arms behind her back. “All things considered, you are the optimal stand-in for the prince.”

“Alright,” Nadia said, rubbing her hands together. “Ryan did you get all that?”

“Every word,” he said, handing her the notes he had written down.

“Great! Well, Lance, looks like it’s time for a make-over.” She pulled out a variety of tools and brushes, palettes and pans, walking towards him in what he assumed wasn’t _supposed_ to be menacing, but definitely _was_.

Lance gulped as he slowly stepped backwards, eventually running into the chair that Ryan had shoved behind him, and as Nadia came in to add the first stroke of make-up on his eye, he wondered if maybe, he had made a mistake by agreeing to this.

* * *

It only took ten minutes of being in Keith’s home for James to decide that, without a doubt, he highly preferred the man’s roommate over the man himself.

He and Keith had arrived at the isolated cabin just before sundown, the sky on the verge of turning orange. On the way there, Keith explained that he lived and worked with another man – Shiro was his name – and that they would need to stop by their home to grab supplies before leaving.

James wasn’t sure what he expected of him. He supposed he was expecting to be met with someone similar to Keith – temperamental, stubborn, reluctant to help unless given the promise of money. But instead, Shiro had ushered him inside, offered a warm meal, and tidied up the guest bedroom for him to use, no questions asked.

Yes, he _much_ preferred Shiro.

“So, let me get this straight,” Shiro started, pointing to James, who sat with a comforting cup of hot tea in his hands, “you’re Prince James, and you’re trying to get back to the castle in time for your marriage to Princess Allura?”

“Precisely,” he said, nodding. “I need to get back as soon as possible. I was thinking Keith and I could leave tonight.”

“Okay, two things,” Keith cut in. “One: you’re _not_ leaving tonight, not before you get some rest. And two: I’m not taking you. Shiro is.”

It was a surprise to both of them. “I am?” Shiro asked.

“I’m paying _you_ to take me back to the castle,” James said, just in case he needed a reminder.

“Then you’ll pay Shiro instead. We pay the same bills – It doesn’t matter who gets the money, it’s going to the same place.”

“So why won’t you take me?”

“Why does it matter?”

James set down his cup, standing up straight to face Keith with a stern expression. “What matters is that we made a deal. You said that you’d take me to the castle, not Shiro.”

“You haven’t held up your end of the deal,” Keith fired back. “I haven’t seen any money, yet.”

“I was _kidnapped_. I’m sorry that I couldn’t pick up my checkbook before getting dragged halfway across the kingdom against my will.”

“Um, Keith, your highness?” Shiro said. The two whipped their heads around like predators to prey, and even though he dwarfed both of them in size, he couldn’t help but feel a bit scared at the sight. “Keith, I think you should take him.”

“ _What_? Why?” He scowled at the suggestion. “I already brought him here. You can take him the rest of the way.”

“He needs to get to the castle as soon as he can, and you know the way better than I do. It’ll be faster if you take him.”

Keith shot a nasty look at the prince, and James held back the urge to shoot another one his way. “Just follow the main road. It’s not hard.”

Shiro sighed and offered him a soft smile, careful not to tread to harshly for fear of irritating his friend further. “That path will take a week – five days, if we really rushed.”

“ _Five days_?” James said. “No, that’s too long – The princess is supposed to arrive in _two days_ , and one of her representatives is going to be there _tomorrow_. I’m already going to be late to meeting them. I can’t put it off any longer than I have to.”

“Which is exactly why Keith should take you,” Shiro explained with a sympathetic smile. “He knows how to get from here to there in as little as three days. He’s your best bet to reaching the castle in time.”

“My answer is no,” Keith said, his voice firm and definitive.

“Keith, _please_ ,” James pleaded, and he placed a tentative hand on his arm.

Keith turned to face the prince, and he found his throat seizing when he was met with large, puppy eyes that made it nearly impossible for him to say ‘no’ – and if he hadn’t already said it, he wasn’t sure if he’d have the strength to do so again.

“If this alliance doesn’t work out and the Galra launch an attack on our kingdom, we won’t have the military strength to fight them off,” James said in a low voice, his lower lip quivering ever so slightly to give way for fear. “I don’t want our people to suffer. I don’t want them to fall to the hands of the Galra. And trust me – I _don’t_ want to marry Allura, but if that’s what it takes to save the kingdom, then I’m going to do it.” His eyebrows then knitted together to form a more serious expression, one of stone-cold determination. “So, the least you could do is stop your childish whining and _help me_.”

He shrugged James’ hand away, crossing his arms and avoiding his gaze by latching onto a nick in the floorboards. “Fine, I’ll be the one to take you,” he relented.

James clasped his hands as his lips pulled into a bright smile of gratitude. “Thank you, Keith! If it’s alright with you, I’d like to leave first thing tomorrow morning, just as the sun begins to rise.”

“Sure, it’s not like I need sleep anyways,” Keith joked, and he found that he didn’t mind the playful shove he received from the prince.

Shiro laughed from where he sat behind them, still cleaning from their meal earlier in James’ visit. “I’ll pack some money and snacks for you guys to take.”

“That’s very kind of you, I very much appreciate it!” James said.

“Shit, we’re going to need a new name for you,” Keith suddenly realized, clicking his tongue sharply.

“New name? Why?”

“You’re going to be passing through some poorer towns,” Shiro said, resting a hand on his chin as he thought through the situation. “It might be best if you took on a pseudonym while travelling. It probably wouldn’t be good if you got kidnapped by another group of people.”

“I thought ‘James’ was a common name?” the prince said. “Is it not?”

“‘Common’ as in ‘often used’, or ‘common’ as in ‘middle-class’? Because the name ‘James’ is neither,” Keith stated with an amused snort. “Turns out that most people _don’t_ want to name their kid after the prince. It’s a gateway to a load of comparisons and being pitted against royalty isn’t exactly good for your self-esteem.”

James puffed out his cheeks in minor frustration, but then it suddenly dawned on him and his eyes lit up like stars. “Oh, I know! You can call me ‘Jamie’!”

If Keith had a glass of water, he would’ve spit out his drink. “‘Jamie’? Where’d you get that?”

“It’s, uh, what my mom calls me,” he said, lowering his face to hide the red rising to it. “I just thought that it would be good since I already answer to it. But we can pick something else if –”

“Jamie,” Keith repeated, testing the name on his tongue and trying to match the name to the prince’s face – and after catching sight of his pink cheeks and shy eyes, he found that it was quite fitting. “That’ll work.”

“Okay, then,” James agreed. “From now on, it’s just Jamie.”

* * *

“Introducing, his royal highness, the new Prince James!” Nadia announced dramatically, gesturing towards the bathroom door as it creaked open to reveal Lance, dressed in one of the prince’s tailor-made suits and looking nearly _identical_ to the prince in question.

“Look no further! Your prince has arrived,” Lance said in what he could only describe as the most regal voice he could muster, giving a few bows to the small crowd that consisted of James’ three attendants. He ran a hand over the fabric of his clothing, so soft and silky and the most luxurious thing that he ever had the honor of laying eyes on, much less getting to wear. “This is so comfortable,” he said in awe. “I thought it’d be itchy or stiff, but no – It’s amazing! And it hugs my body perfectly, too.”

“All of the prince’s clothes are fitted for him,” Ina said. “You share a similar build and stature, so it must be a good fit for you as well.”

Lance pulled on the cuffs of his sleeves nervously. “So, I know you guys all say that I look like him but… How am I supposed to fool the queen?” he asked with concern. “I mean, Prince James is her _son_. I think she’d notice if someone else took his place.”

“No need to worry about that,” Nadia said reassuringly. “ _We_ already took care of it.” She held up something in her hands, wiggling it in front of Lance’s vision, and it took a moment before he realized that she was holding a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, diamonds and all.

“You _stole_ the queen’s glasses?!”

“Spectacles,” she corrected. “And it’s not _stealing_ – We’re just withholding them for an extended period of time.”

“Besides, the queen rarely ever gets to see her son. She’s typically too busy to spend time with him because they both have their own responsibilities to attend to,” Ina said.

Lance frowned. Ever since moving in with Pidge and Hunk, he saw his family less, but they always made time for him when he visited them each weekend. He couldn’t imagine living in the same walls as them and not being able to see each other.

If he were to be completely honest, he felt a bit sad for the prince.

“Okay, so he looks like the prince,” Ryan said, snapping him out of his melancholic revelation. “Now he needs to act like the prince.”

“Right,” Lance said, shoving Nadia to the side as he straightened up. “I… have no idea how to do that. What’s Prince James even like?”

Nadia was eager to answer. “Oh, his favorite color is orange – specifically sunset orange, not that gross burnt orange – tangerine is also nice, though. He _loves_ roses – he’s such a romantic and they’re just so beautiful to him, so much so that he scents _all_ of his letters with it. He also really likes reading, singing, dancing, animals –”

“I think he meant what James _acts_ like,” Ryan corrected. “Not what he enjoys.”

“You know, _that_ would make more sense.”

Ryan shook his head at her antics, a faint smile on his lips. “Before you can become Prince James, you need to learn to become a prince.” He grabbed a book from a nearby table, holding up the cover so that Lance could see it. “You’ll need to read this entire thing by tomorrow.”

Lance squinted at the title. “ _100 Rules to Royalty_ ”, it read.

“One hundred rules?!” he said. “Why so many? I thought royalty was like, above all else.”

“They’re not rules, per se,” Ina said. “It’s basic etiquette.”

“No wonder the prince seemed so polite when we met…” Lance grumbled.

“It’s actually a pretty entertaining read, at least when you don’t have to follow everything in it,” Nadia said. “It’s got everything about what spoons to use, how to walk properly, how to speak with others of ‘royal status’ – It’ll cover whatever you need to know about being a prince.”

With a nod, Ryan placed the book in Lance’s hands, tapping his finger against the hard cover. “Exactly. Now, you need to memorize and follow as much of this as possible. We’ll help guide you on how to be James, but you can’t let his reputation slip by messing up some simple royal protocol.” His face turned serious, as if he were giving a warning. “Don’t ruin that for him.”

“I’ll do my best not to,” Lance promised, and not for the first time since arriving did he realize how out of his element he was.

What he would give to be back at home eating Hunk’s cooking right now… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance, Hunk, & Pidge - HOLY SHIT YOU'RE THE PRINCE  
> Keith - *doesn't give a single fuck who he is unless he's paying him*  
> Shiro - :)
> 
> This has made me realize that writing Keith and James' banter is really entertaining lol. I also firmly believe that Keith would NOT care about his royal status, and James is understandably frustrated yet fascinated. XD


	3. III

Adam pulled his pocket watch from his belt.

Time couldn’t pass fast enough.

He stared ahead, his face and stance both solid as he stood by watching the situation in front of him unfold.

“The prince is gone?” asked the woman standing across from the queen, who sat on the throne with a somber expression.

It had only been a day since her son went missing, and she seemed so defeated and small sitting in such a grand piece of furniture. “Yes,” she spoke, her voice small and weak. “He – My son ran away two nights ago.”

“Then, it seems we have no choice but to call off the wedding.” The woman stared ahead with a frosty gaze, her golden eyes flitting to the side just long enough for Adam to get a glimpse of that cold yellow. “I’ll inform the princess that there is no need to continue her trip here.”

“Tell the princess and her father that I am greatly sorry.”

“I’m sure they’ll take it as no fault of your own; it is out of your hands.” The woman pursed her lips. “I hope you know that this means the alliance between our kingdoms is to be voided as well?”

“Yes, I understand,” she sighed. “I had no idea the lengths my son would go to escape their marriage.”

“Children are such unpredictable and foolish things,” the woman said bitterly. “My condolences, your majesty.”

The queen nodded and closed her eyes. “Yes, thank you, Honerva. Please, travel safely.”

Honerva offered a quick curtsy, and though her eyes were as cold as ice, her expression was completely unreadable, as if it were a blank slate, and her shoes clicked on the floor as she prepared to leave.

But before she could reach the door, it opened on its own.

“Your majesty, my queen,” Ryan said, standing in the doorway with Nadia and Ina on each side. “We have important news.”

“Could this not have waited until I had left?” Honerva asked. “I don’t need to waste any more time on your kingdom’s personal affairs than I already have.”

“Please, this involves Altea as well,” Nadia explained. She pushed in front of Ryan, giving a grand bow and a flick of the wrist as she began the introduction. “May I present to you, Prince James.”

The three attendants stepped aside to reveal a man dressed in a rich shade of blue, a long cape flowing behind him as he took slow steps into the room. His head was held high despite his nervous expression, a gold crown resting on his short-cropped brown hair.

“Mother?” he said timidly, offering a small smile.

The queen stood, her red-rimmed eyes opening wide as she lifted the ends of her skirt just enough to not trip over the fabric, taking long strides to meet him on the other end of the room. “Jamie?” she said, and she held out a hand to touch him, to cradle his cheek, to brush the ends of his hair away from his face. She laughed breathlessly, lifting her other hand to her mouth as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks – not out of sadness, but of joy. “Jamie, darling, you cut your hair.”

James – or, at least who she thought was James – laughed with her. “I did,” he said. The corners of his lips drooped. “I’m sorry, Mother. I should never have run away. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Of course, I will, Jamie,” the queen said with a smile. “I always will.”

“I’m glad. And I believe I’m ready to marry the princess now.”

The queen’s smile grew, if that was even possible, and she quickly dabbed away her tears before turning to Honerva with a hopeful appearance. “Oh, did you hear that? It seems we won’t have to cancel the wedding after all.”

“Are you sure we shouldn’t delay it?” Honerva suggested, quite firmly. “The prince has just returned; perhaps we should hold off on any proceedings –”

“Nonsense! We can go on with the wedding as scheduled! I believe that would be the best and most convenient course of action.”

Honerva nodded – just a single nod, and no more. From where he stood, Adam could’ve sworn he saw a flash of something akin to fury burning in those yellow eyes of hers. “Of course, your majesty,” she said, but he could sense a bit of restraint in her voice, as if she were trying to cover up some undesirable emotion that she didn’t want seen. “Then I’ll let Princess Allura know that you are still expecting her, and to arrive tomorrow as planned. It was a pleasure, Queen Maria.”

“Wonderful,” the queen said. She turned to Adam. “Adam, dear, please show Honerva the way out. I want to catch up with my son for a bit.”

“Of course, my queen,” Adam said, and he strolled across the room to meet Honerva, outstretching an arm to guide her in the proper direction. “After you, ma’am.”

Honerva spared him a moment’s glance before moving. “Hm. Thank you.”

Adam walked at a brisk pace in front of the woman, every so often sending her a suspicious look from behind the lenses of his glasses. She was strangely unfazed by the prince’s return, her demeanor was cold and distant, and her subtle suggestion of delaying the wedding left him skeptical of her intentions.

“It’s great news that the prince has decided to return,” Adam said, “is it not?”

“It’s fantastic,” Honerva replied in a tone so cut and dry that she could slice through steel with it.

He continued on through the halls, slowly approaching the castle entrance where he and the woman would part ways. “I would hate to have seen what might have happen if he had chosen not to.”

“Hm, it would have been devastating indeed.”

Adam pressed his lips into a straight line as he went the rest of the way in silence. Something about this woman was not to be trusted.

It was like the air had suddenly cleared when he finally saw her climb into her carriage to leave.

“We will be seeing you tomorrow with the princess?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said with a curt nod,” ten a.m. sharp.”

“Then we will see you then. Take care.”

“And you as well.”

As the carriage faded in the distance, he narrowed his eyes towards it.

That woman had something to do with James’ disappearance, he was sure of it.

* * *

“Okay, I’ve packed some snacks – bread, jam, jerky, and a few of those muffins you like – two canteens of water, some matches, a couple of knives, blankets, rope, a first aid kit, and a decent amount of gold,” Shiro said, sorting through the pack he was holding before handing it off to Keith. “It should be just enough to cover your travelling expenses, so don’t go spending it on anything.”

“Thanks, Shiro,” Keith said, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Thank you again for helping me, both of you,” James said, his head low. “I know this is probably a lot of trouble for you –”

“It’s no trouble,” Shiro assured with a warm smile. “It’s an honor getting to meet you, your highness, and an even greater honor to be of assistance.”

“Your help is well appreciated.”

Keith huffed from the side, tapping the toe of his boot impatiently against the ground. “Enough with the flowery thanks. We need to get going if you want to make it to the castle in time.”

“Right.” James pulled the hood of his cape – well, Keith’s cape – over his head and turned to face the man, eager to get moving. “So, where are the horses?”

“Horses?” Keith said, staring at him incredulously. “What do we look like, stable owners?”

“I thought you had some?” the prince said. “The ones you used to pull your wagon?”

“Rentals. They were _rentals_.”

“What Keith means to say is,” Shiro began, sending the man in question an admonishing look, “we can’t afford to keep our own, so we rent them when we need to pick up a shipment.”

“We’re travelling on foot,” Keith said bluntly. “Think you can handle that, princess?”

“ _Yes_ , I’ll manage.” It took a moment for him to process the tail end of what was said to him, but once he did, he was _not_ happy. “And don’t call me ‘princess’.”

Keith shrugged. “Fine. But you better not complain about your feet hurting. I’m not carrying you.”

“I don’t expect you to. That’d be highly unbecoming.”

Shiro sighed. “At this rate, the sun might set before you two even leave…”

* * *

On one hand, it was an interesting experience to be treated like royalty for once.

On the other hand, it was a terrifying experience to pose as the queen’s son.

“I want you to tell me _everything_ ,” she said, folding her hands in her lap as she shifted her chair closer to Lance’s, looking at him with such love and adoration that he felt a painful twinge of guilt at having to fool her. “Why would you run off without saying something? I know that this engagement is our only option, but I still want you to be happy.” She reached out a hand to hold his own, squeezing it comfortingly. “You said you would be.”

“I – I, uh –” Lance looked over the queen’s shoulder to see Nadia waving her hands wildly.

“ _Stop stuttering!_ ” she mouthed silently, her eyes filled with panic.

He spoke slowly, drawing out his words to keep from uttering any more “uh’s” or “um’s”. “I just… needed time alone to clear my head,” he said. “Marriage is such a big commitment, so I had to make sure I was ready to enter it. For the sake of the princess.”

Nadia sent him a thumbs up, quickly lowering it as Ina entered the room with a tray of tea and biscuits, setting them on the table for the pair and pouring two cups out for them.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back home, safe and sound,” she assured. “You really worried me, Jamie.”

“I’m sorry, Mother.”

“No need to apologize, dear.” Queen Maria sat back in her chair, delicately taking her cup and Lance couldn’t help but notice her pinky was out. “Now, tell me – What all did you see while you were gone? I’m sure you saw all sorts of interesting things.”

“Interesting things?” Lance pondered. Shoot, what was he supposed to say? He had to make up a believable lie about where the prince was this whole time, but the only thing he knew was his family’s farm, the village, the restaurant –

… The restaurant.

Perhaps this was a good time for a marketing plug.

“Actually, Mother, I came across this lovely little establishment, down in the village,” Lance began with a mischievous smile, reaching for a cookie from the tray. “I believe it’s called Hunk’s Kitchen, and it has some of the best food I’ve ever tasted.”

The queen had a look of awe, her mouth in a small ‘O’ and her hands cradling her teacup close to her chest. “Wow, really? Better than our kitchen staff?”

“ _Much_ better. Every bite is like a moment in heaven,” Lance said, waving his frosted cookie with a dramatic flourish.

Over the queen’s shoulder, he could see Nadia shooting him a look of alarm, and he didn’t need words to know that she was mentally saying, _Seriously?!_

“I’ll have to try it sometime,” Queen Maria said, taking the tiniest of sips from her tea. She suddenly set it down, her eyes lighting up with an idea. “Oh, Jamie, why don’t we have them cater for the wedding?”

Lance quickly swallowed his food. “Really?”

“Yes, it’d be a great idea, wouldn’t it? We’ll need lots of food for the wedding guests and it would be so much work for the kitchen staff to do it all on their own. I was already planning on having the townsfolk pitch in, but if this restaurant’s food is as good as you say it is, we could hire them to cater for the event.”

_Jackpot!_

“That would be amazing!” Lance said, his hands shaking with excitement. _Just wait ‘til Hunk hears about this!_

“I’m glad you think so!” Queen Maria agreed. “And anything else you want for the wedding, we’ll make it happen. In fact, we never got around to finalizing the flower bouquets, or the ceremony décor…”

The color drained from Lance’s face in an instant. “We didn’t…?”

“No, because a certain _someone_ promised to make a decision the next day, then ran away from home,” she teased, tapping his nose in a playful manner. The queen quickly clapped her hands twice, calling Nadia and Ina over. “Girls, please fetch the other servants and have them bring the fabric swatches. We’ll start with those first, then cover flowers later.”

“Yes, your majesty,” they said in unison, hurrying away to do as they were told.

Lance gulped, twisting the cookie in his hands nervously. “Shouldn’t we maybe wait for the princess to arrive to make decisions on the décor?” he asked, hoping to stall the decision making. He didn’t know what types of decorations the _real_ prince would want, and he really didn’t want to ruin his wedding by picking out something hideous. “After all, it’s her wedding, as well, right?”

“Don’t worry, Jamie, the princess has already decided on her share of decorations,” the queen said. “She’s chosen a lovely shade of pink for the ribbons and decided on purple juniberry flowers for her bouquet. Quite a beautiful combination, if you ask me.”

“What are juniberry flowers?” Lance asked absentmindedly, and it wasn’t until the question had left his mouth that he realized he might have made a mistake.

Luckily, the queen didn’t even bat an eye. “Jamie, don’t be silly,” she said with a soft giggle. “You’ve seen them plenty of times. Princess Allura sent a giant heart-shaped wreath made of them as part of your engagement gift.”

Lance nearly responded with, “She did?” but he managed to hold it in. “Oh, right,” he agreed, nodding his head.

“Yes, it was such a sweet gesture. And you remember what you sent her in return, don’t you?”

“Oh, of course I do!” Lance said, and he hoped the queen wouldn’t ask him to answer what it was.

“You sent her a crown of white roses, hand-picked from our gardens,” the queen said with a dreamy sigh. “You even made the flower crown yourself. You were always such a romantic, dear.”

“I must get it from somewhere,” he said, and Lance hoped he wasn’t assuming too much of her.

She laughed. “You really did. Your father did things like that all the time, before…”

Queen Maria’s gaze softened, focusing on the tea in her cup as she seemingly began to reminisce of a life that Lance would never know, that he _shouldn’t_ know. Her smile turned nostalgic as she kept staring, her eyebrows knitted ever so slightly, and it wasn’t until she heard the servants entering that she took a shallow breath and turned to face Lance once more.

“Alright, we should look over these fabric samples again,” she said, as if the last few moments never occurred. “If I recall correctly, you wanted to use silk?”

“Yes, silk,” Lance said, feeling the smooth fabric swatches and pushing down the feeling of unease that began to emerge. He felt like he had seen something he shouldn’t have – he _knew_ he shouldn’t have – but he couldn’t help but wonder about the story behind what he had witnessed.

“So, we need to decide on the color! Which one catches your eye, darling?”

The servants cleared the table of all but the silk swatches, leaving an overwhelming number still laid out. “Oh, I think…”

Lance felt like he could sense every bead of sweat on his face. There must’ve been over fifty different colors to choose from, all different shades and tints and tones and whatever the fuck else there was. What color did Nadia say James liked again? Burnt orange? Tangerine? Hell, it could be black for all he knew.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

James didn’t need to be a genius to know that Keith wasn’t one for small talk.

They had started on an old road that led through the forest and to the next town over. Keith had taken the map, but rather than using it as a guide, he tucked it away in his bag and relied on his own knowledge of the land to lead the way.

And the entire time, not once did he make an attempt to speak to the prince.

“How long until we reach the town?” James asked once the silence became unbearable. “I feel like we’ve been walking for a while now.”

“We should be there in about two more miles.”

“I wanted to know the _time_ it would take.”

Keith gave him a nasty case of the side-eye. “At the speed we’re going, I’d say forty-five minutes.”

They trekked on, Keith in the front and James following behind him with a wide gap between. Perhaps it was too much to ask, given the circumstances, but James wished that he had somehow ended up with a more amiable companion to travel with.

Maybe he _should’ve_ let Shiro take him instead.

“So, why do you and Shiro live so far from everyone?” asked the prince in an attempt to make conversation.

“Why do you ask?”

James jogged forward to meet Keith, walking alongside him rather than behind. “You two are blacksmiths, correct?” A small nod. “Well, your shop is so deep in the woods. The nearest town is a twenty-minute walk, and even so, it’s pretty small. Shiro mentioned that most of your business is from out of town, too. So, why don’t you move closer to the inner kingdom, near the castle? You’d have better business there.”

Keith’s fist tightened at his side, his brows furrowing. “We like the peace and quiet. The town is small, but it’s nice. As for business, we’re doing just fine, thanks.”

“It’s so close to our border with Daibazaal, though,” James mentioned. “Aren’t you concerned that there might be an invasion one day?”

“The Galra can try to invade us if they want. We can take them.”

Now it was James’ turn to tighten his fist. “What do you mean we can take them? We _can’t_ take them; that’s exactly why I’m going through with this stupid wedding we’re travelling to.”

“I didn’t mean ‘we’ as in the kingdom,” Keith clarified, and his tone was defensive. “I meant me and Shiro.”

“Just the two of you?” Another nod. “You seem awfully confident in your abilities.”

“Yeah, I am.” Keith glanced at him, the tiniest bit of smiles on his lips, but it certainly held no good intentions. “Want to see?” he asked, a hand on the hilt of his sword strapped at his hip and one eyebrow raised in a manner that meant nothing but trouble.

James took a step away from him, leaving a reasonably-sized hole between them and turning up his nose. “I’d rather not.”

* * *

“You chose _blood orange_?!” Nadia screamed, holding up the fabric sample and cornering Lance against the backboard of his – the prince’s – bed.

“How was I supposed to know what the prince’s favorite color is? You’re lucky I even got close!”

“I _told_ you it was _sunset orange_.” With a snap of her fingers, it was as if Ina magically materialized beside her, holding up a second sample of silk in the proper hue. “ _This_ is James’ favorite color. _This_ is the swatch you should’ve chosen, not whatever the fuck _this_ –” She shook the sample in her own hand. “– is.”

Lance looked between the two fabrics in confusion. “They look exactly the same!” he yelled.

“They are _not_ the same – How dare you?!”

“Nadia,” Ryan called, and that seemed to be enough to calm her tantrum a tad, “quit harassing him. It was a simple mistake. James can pick the color he wants when he gets back.”

She blew her bangs in frustration, running a hand through her hair as she stood up straight. “Right, he can fix this _mess_ once he’s home.”

The door to the bedroom clicked open and everyone in the room jumped, Lance especially, clinging to the soft comforter and holding it up to hide his face.

“Relax,” Adam said, entering the room, “it’s just me.”

“Adam! This is great!” Lance said, running up to the other man and grabbing the front lapels of his vest – which he _did not_ appreciate, and showed his distain by curtly removing his hands from him. “Did you find any news of the prince? Do you know where he is?”

“No, not yet. And don’t touch me ever again,” he said, brushing off his shirt as if there was dirt left behind. “I think I have an idea of who took him, though.”

Ryan’s face turned grave. “Who?”

“Honerva, the representative from Altea that visited this morning.” He crossed his arms as he recalled the woman’s unsettling aura. “When Lance introduced himself as the prince, she seemed upset that the wedding was back on.”

“That’s right,” Ina said, remembering the events from that morning. “She even attempted to have it delayed.”

“Exactly. I don’t trust her, and I don’t think any of you should either.”

“But why would she be against the Griffin-Altean alliance?” Nadia questioned. “It would benefit both kingdoms, and she’s Altean. Wouldn’t she be putting her own kingdom at risk?”

“That, I don’t know yet, but I’ll figure it out eventually,” Adam said. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“This is troubling,” Ina muttered, “knowing that our supposed allies might very well be our enemies.”

Ryan hummed to himself. “We need to stay alert. Don’t trust anyone outside of this room.”

“Precisely. We don’t know who our real enemy here is, so treat everyone as an enemy,” Adam warned. He stared at Lance with eyes that told him to heed his words, and Lance wasn’t about to ignore it. “Watch your back, _Prince_.”

* * *

“Finally, other people,” James said in relief as they finally entered the town.

“Great, other people,” Keith repeated in a dead tone. He tightened his grip around the money pouch he had, scanning the area for a store that might have anything useful. “Let’s hurry up so we can get out of here.”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous, we just got here.” The prince dragged him along through the streets, eyeing the random shop signs with interest. “We should look for an inn to stay at.”

“We’re not staying at an inn,” Keith said. “We’re spending the night out in the woods. Now, let’s _go_.”

“Wait, why?”

“Because,” he began, his voice just the slightest bit condescending, “you said you want to get to the castle as soon as possible. It’s barely five p.m. and the sun doesn’t set for another three and a half hours, so we’re going to keep moving.” He snapped his fingers in front of James’ face to redirect his attention. “Got it?”

“Got it,” James mumbled. “If you’re so eager to leave, why are we even here?”

“Figured we could stop for a decent meal. I think you’ve earned it, princess.”

“I told you _not_ to call me that.”

“Whatever,” Keith remarked. “I’ll buy something to take on the road. What are you feeling for food? I’m kind of craving meat and mashed potatoes.”

James looked around. “Anything’s fine with me.”

“Great. Now stay here while I go buy dinner,” Keith said, already beginning to walk towards the section of shops on the street’s side.

“Woah, where do you think you’re going?” James grabbed the other man’s wrist, forcing him to a stop. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to just leave me alone? I’ve never been here before.”

“Nothing’s going to happen, Jamie,” he said, rolling his eyes, and James had to admit that it was quite a case of whiplash hearing his nickname spoken in such a flippant tone. “Just keep your head down, don’t talk to anyone, and stay here.”

“Why can’t I just go with you?”

Keith’s eyes raked over him slowly, his lips straightened in a line. “Look, no offense, but you don’t exactly look like you belong here. Your face just screams easy prey to business owners. You seem like the type they could easily swindle into spending a fortune.”

“No, I’m not!” James pouted, trying to ignore the fact that he spent eight-hundred gold on fresh crops and quiches not three days ago. “And fine, just go,” he said, pushing Keith away and crossing his arms to hug himself, “I don’t want to come with you anyways.”

Keith scoffed. “Good.”

James watched as he went off down the street and into one of the many shops lining it, then leaned against one of the walls of the buildings to grumble to himself about the _disaster_ he’d gotten dragged into.

First, he was forced into an engagement to Princess Allura. He had nothing against her, and from what he’d heard, she was a pleasant person to be around – But still, it wasn’t as if he had a choice.

Then, he had gotten himself kidnapped by a pair of dumb hooligans who kept him locked up in the woods near the border of Daibazaal. And even after barely escaping, he somehow ended up with the most disagreeable, disrespectful, and ill-tempered escort in the entire kingdom.

Either James possessed the worst luck imaginable, or the universe just really had it out for him. Maybe even both.

He lowered his head as he silently observed the passersby, tugging his hood down to cover more of his face. Underneath the cloak, he twisted the ring on his right hand – thank goodness his kidnappers didn’t touch it – back and forth to pass the time, a nervous habit he had developed from years of sitting in boring political meetings and war briefings.

Ten minutes passed by and Keith didn’t come back yet. James knew that it might take longer than that to get their food, but he couldn’t help the feeling of unease that rose in his gut. Regardless, he kept still, his eyes going to check the shop every time he noticed the door swing open, waiting for that insufferable head of black hair to make his reappearance.

After twenty minutes, James decided he had spent enough time waiting. They had somewhere to be, and Keith was the one who made such a big deal about skipping town as soon as possible, so the least he could do was hurry up.

James pushed himself off the wall, drew his cloak closer to his body, and adamantly marched towards the shop. He didn’t care if Keith didn’t want him there. He would just stand near the entrance and wait – it wasn’t like he would cause any trouble. Keith could deal with it.

But two doorways down from the shop, he felt a pat on his back, and he dug his heels in the ground as he came to a halt to look over his shoulder, only to be met with nothing.

He raised an eyebrow, puzzled and wary, and went back to walking, but then there was a tug on his hood and he unexpectedly found himself dragged into a narrow alley between two shops, a calloused hand at his neck and his back against the wall.

“Hand over your money,” said the thug in front of him, and the tip of a sword was dug into the mortar that glued together the bricks.

The hand around his neck was strong, but it wasn’t tight – not yet, at least – and he could still breath easy. “I don’t have any money,” he said.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” the man spat, and James cringed at the feeling of saliva hitting his skin. When he got home, the first thing he planned to do was to take a long bath. “Your clothes say otherwise. And don’t think I didn’t notice that ring you were playing with earlier.”

 _Shit_.

“I’m telling the truth,” James said, and his voice was surprisingly level. “I don’t have any. You can search me if you want – You won’t find what you’re looking for.”

The two were caught in a deadlock as the man used every trick in the book to frighten the prince, but he held his ground. Whoever this was stood two heads – maybe three – above him, had rippling muscles under his tunic and vest, and wore a gnarly snarl as he tried to get James to react, but the prince wasn’t going to budge so easily.

When he gathered that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with intimidation, he went for violence, digging the blade of his sword into the space between James’ left shoulder and neck.

He drew in a sharp breath but continued to stare forward, not even flinching as he felt his own hot blood soaking into the once pristine clothing. His gaze darkened, his eyes narrowed, and he did something he _never_ thought he would do, lest his entire royal image be left in tatters.

James spit in the man’s face.

In his moment of weakness, James shoved him away and sent the man stumbling back. His sword slid against James’ skin as he pulled back, and _that_ finally caused the prince to let out a short “ah” in pain, but he quickly recovered only to find that he had pushed the man in the complete _opposite_ direction than he meant to, leaving the only exit blocked.

“Brat,” the man groaned, and James held up his hands in defense, widening his stance to provide more stability.

“Get the fuck away from him.”

James cocked his head to the side in confusion until he pieced together the fact that Keith had finally decided to make his reappearance.

“What are you,” the man taunted, turning around to see Keith holding a dark blade pointed straight at his chest, “his personal guard?”

Keith held his sword steady. “I’m not going to ask again.”

With his back turned, James took the opportunity to sweep his leg under the man, sending him falling on his ass and his sword flying in the air, and James didn’t even have to look to catch it in his outstretched hand.

“I don’t need a personal guard,” James said, redirecting his newly stolen sword towards the man’s neck in a mirror of before.

The man was left reasonably shaken up, and James figured it best to leave things as they were. No use stirring up trouble hundreds of miles from home.

When he felt he had scared the man enough, he withdrew the sword and hooked it to his belt as securely as he could without a proper sheath. He lifted his eyes up at Keith, who he suddenly noticed was staring back at him, completely stunned.

“Didn’t think you knew how to fight,” he uttered.

For some reason, James felt a bit of heat rise to his face and he pulled his hood back over to cover it, walking past Keith and back into the street. “My father taught me,” was all he said as their shoulders brushed, and they continued on their way.

It took a moment for Keith to process what had happened, but once he did, he scurried over to match James’ brisk speed. “No, seriously,” he said, sheathing his own sword and grabbing the strap of his bag. “I thought someone like you would be all weak and useless.”

James shot him an offended look.

“Hey,” Keith said, raising his hands in surrender, “I’m just telling the truth.” His eyes suddenly focused on James’ shoulder, and he reached out to touch it only to receive a hiss and a push. “We should clean and bandage that. It looks like a nasty wound.”

The prince drew his cloak to cover it, the maroon fabric not even affected by the blood oozing out. “It’s not even that deep. It’s fine.”

“It’s not. It’s going to get infected if you don’t treat it.”

“We don’t have time to stop by the doctor,” James said.

“I never said anything about a doctor,” Keith shot. He placed a hand against his chest. “I’ll do it.”

James raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You? Really?”

“Really,” Keith said, nodding. “Come on. I’ll patch you up once we set up camp.” He placed his hands around the prince’s arms to hurry him forward – mindful of the wound – as they pushed through the streets.

“Keith, slow down,” James said, carefully prying one of his hands off.

The man stared him in the eyes. “We have to leave. _Now_.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“Then walk. _Fast_.”

They sped through the streets, their capes billowing behind them as they wove through the crowd. Keith showed no mercy as he spearheaded forward, not even checking to see if James was behind him.

When they came to an emptier part of the town, they slowed to a hurried walk, Keith’s head flitting back and forth, eyeing everyone they passed with suspicion.

“May I ask why you’re in such a rush all of a sudden?” James questioned in a hush voice.

“It’s your clothes,” Keith said through his teeth. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it earlier. You’re dressed like you have enough money to own the town.”

“I kind of _do_ own the town.”

“Yeah, but that makes you a target.” Keith groaned in frustration. “Next village we stop at, we’re trading in your clothes. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Good.” His eyes darted down to James’ hand and he scowled. “And take off that ring. Hide it in your pocket or something.”

Keith didn’t think much of it until he saw that James had stopped moving and was now giving him the deadliest glare he’d ever witnessed. “No,” he said firmly, his voice sounding like a dam of anger was about to break through at any given moment.

“No? Are you insane?”

“I’m not taking it off,” James said. “That’s final.”

“ _Jamie_.”

“ _Keith_.”

This entire situation was making him want to yank his hair out. “Fine. Leave it on,” Keith hissed. “Not like I give a fuck what happens to you.”

“Likewise,” James said, and the two paraded on without another word.

* * *

Before the day even finished, Lance came to the conclusion that he was completely _over_ with being royalty and that he didn’t envy the prince one bit.

After spending way too much time picking out decorations (and failing at it, according to Nadia) for a wedding that wasn’t even his own, Lance only had a short reprieve to himself and his attendants before being ushered off to a meeting to discuss what was being done about the stalemate at the Galran border. The meeting was extremely boring and dry, listening to the Admiral – Admiral Sandy? – drone on and on for over an hour while he tried not to fall asleep. After that, he was ping-ponged between various tutors to study history, politics, sparring, swordsmanship – and it left both his brain _and_ his muscles sore.

Even then, he didn’t get a break, immediately being rushed to the dining hall for dinner with the queen, once again having to play the role of her loving son. It was exhausting and terrifying, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly offended on behalf of Prince James that his own mother didn’t recognize him. But then again, with how busy both of them were, it was no wonder she failed to notice the difference.

After dinner was another round of wedding preparations, and Lance was made to choose what flowers to include for the ceremony and reception. His eyes caught on the many patches of roses, which he remembered were the prince’s favorite, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to make a proper decision for him. He went straight for the orange ones, and thinking them a good choice, he took a bouquet and gave it a good whiff, but as he opened his mouth to say that he had chosen them, he noticed Ryan sending him a stern look, dragging his hand across his neck in a threatening manner. Lance had set down the bouquet as if it burned him, and after seeing Ryan mouth a short message to him, he instead went to pick out the white roses.

Only after all that was he finally given the freedom to retire to the prince’s room, flopping face-down onto the bed while Ryan and Nadia drew his bath and Ina picked out his sleepwear.

“Does Prince James go through this every day?” he asked, his voice muffled by the incredibly soft cushioning of the mattress.

“Not every day,” Ina said as she set down a set of sky-blue silk pajamas, intricate swirls resembling clouds embroidered onto them. “Tomorrow, he has dance lessons, then vocal lessons the following.”

“Hey, Prince!” Nadia yelled, waving her hand in a large sweeping motion. “Your bath’s ready.”

“Ooh, finally!”

The feeling of sinking into the steamy waters, mixed with various essential oils and flower petals, was _invigorating_. All of the aches and pains he had from the day’s physical activities melted away as he sunk lower beneath the surface until everything below his nose was submerged.

“Snacks?” Ryan asked, offering him a tray of sweets and finger sandwiches.

Lance jerked away, startled. “What are you still doing in here?!”

“This is pretty normal procedure,” Ryan said with a shrug. “I’ll leave before you get out.”

“Do you normally watch the prince bathe?” He grabbed a plate and quickly piled it with a few cookies and a sandwich.

“More or less,” the other man admitted, and he couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. “Would you like some music? I can bring in the minstrels –”

“No! No more people!” Lance took one last cookie before waving his hand in a dismissive manner. “Now shoo – I don’t know how Prince James usually likes it, but I’d prefer to bathe in _solitude_.”

Ryan smiled in amusement, and Lance realized that maybe the man was joking about the minstrels. “Of course.”

As he was left alone in the lavish bathroom, tiled with marble and decorated with precious metals, he let out a relaxing sigh.

Maybe he did envy the prince, just a bit.

* * *

“That _stings_ ,” James complained, eating his mashed potatoes with a childish pout.

“Sorry, but I need to disinfect your wound,” Keith said as he pulled down the collar of James’ shirt, pressing an alcohol-soaked washcloth to his marred skin. He grimaced at the sight. “This is a nasty cut. I’m surprised you didn’t end up crying.”

“Gee, thanks.” The prince took another bite of his food, swirling the mush and gravy with his spoon. “You know, this never would have happened if you just let me come with you into the store.”

“Look, I’m sorry that you got hurt, but how was I supposed to know that in the fifteen minutes I left you alone, you’d get mugged?”

“You were gone for _at least_ twenty minutes.”

Keith nudged the side of his head, smiling slightly at the prince’s fake “ow” that came out in a whimper. He unbuttoned James’ shirt to slip his arm free and reached for the bandages at his side. His eyes returned to the prince’s tanned skin, but rather than focusing on the gash in his shoulder, they caught on something else.

“What’s this?” Keith asked, brushing his fingertips over the smooth skin of his collarbone.

“Hm?” James turned to him with wide eyes and a mouth of food, and Keith had to admit that it was maybe, just the slightest, tiniest bit adorable – but he would never admit it out loud.

“This marking,” he said, pointing to where it looked like a feathered wing was tattooed on the prince’s flesh. “What is it?”

James brought a hand to touch Keith’s fingers, and he pulled away at the electrifying contact while the prince seemed unfazed. “Oh,” he muttered, tracing his skin with a sense of familiarity, “it’s a birthmark. It’s of a griffin’s wing – or that’s what my mother says it looks like.”

“Does everyone in the royal family have a griffin birthmark?” Keith asked jokingly.

“Yeah, my mom has one on her right shoulder.”

“Wait, really?”

There was a weak flick to his forehead. “No, silly,” James said with a laugh. “I’m the only one. Guess I’m special like that.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Keith said, rubbing his forehead. He picked up the bandages once more and began tenderly wrapping James’ shoulder. As he worked, the two sat quietly, the only noise being the crackling of the fire and the soft sound of James’ chewing.

Keith was the type to usually prefer silence, finding a strange comfort in the lack of noise. But tonight, it was unwelcome and left him perturbed, though he didn’t know the reason.

“So,” he started, and he mentally cursed himself over the way his voice cracked, “your dad taught you how to fight?”

James hummed in confirmation. “He started training me when I was eight. I wanted to start earlier, but my mother wouldn’t let me.” There was a small smile on his lips as he reminisced. “We started with wooden swords. I would always practice with Ryan – he’s one of my personal attendants and best friends – and we’d play until the sun set over the horizon and it was too dark to see.”

“It sounds like you had fun,” Keith said. “You know, I didn’t expect the prince _or_ the king to know how to use a sword. I thought that was what personal guards were for.”

“My father wasn’t born as royalty,” James explained, and Keith recalled the late king’s humble beginnings before catching the eye of the young princess, now Queen Maria. “He had to learn to be a king when he married my mother, but he never let those teachings blind him from his own experiences. He fully believed that a good king was one who would fight for his people, stand by his people, and die with his people. That’s what he taught me.”

“I don’t remember much about him outside of history classes in school, but he sounds like a great man,” Keith said softly, and he didn’t miss the fond smile that James gave him.

“He was. I promised myself that I’d never forget what he taught me.”

Keith finished bandaging James’ wound, then pulled his shirt closed to rebutton it. He avoided the prince’s gaze as he spoke, keeping his eyes solely on the silver buttons of his tunic. “My dad taught me first aid. Shiro’s the one who taught me to fight.”

“Oh. Where’s your father now?”

“He, uh,” Keith stuttered. “He died when I was ten.”

There was an awkward pause between the two of them.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it was a long time ago.”

Another pause.

“My father died on my twelfth birthday.”

Keith’s eyes shot up to meet a brilliant blue, speckles of golden embers and violet streaked within. “I – That’s terrible.”

James looked away, letting out something between a scoff and a humorless chuckle, and lowered his gaze to the fire beside them. “Actually, I don’t really know when he died, but the news came on my birthday. He was fighting against the Galra who invaded one of our towns. He was supposed to come back home in time to celebrate – and technically he _did_ come back, but…”

“Jamie,” Keith said, and this use of his name was much softer that any other time he had spoken it, “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s alright,” the prince said. He twisted at the ring on his finger, his hands tense. “My ring – it was his. He left it for me.”

Realization suddenly dawned on Keith, washing over him like an ocean wave. “That’s why you refused to take it off,” he voiced, and he could tell by James’ wince that it was true. “I – I didn’t know, I –”

“You couldn’t have known. I know I got defensive, but I don’t blame you, and I’m not mad.”

Keith furrowed his eyebrows, resting a hand over his bandaged shoulder. “Still, I should’ve been more understanding instead of blowing up at you.”

“It’s already done, Keith. It’s behind us,” James said, and he turned to him with a face of forgiveness, one that melted away his worries in an instant. “It’s getting late. We should rest soon.”

“Right,” Keith agreed, unmoving as James stood up and left him by the fire while he curled up on the blankets alone, careful to sleep on his good side.

And Keith remained by the fire until the final cinders burnt out, and he was left staring at the prince who managed to disprove every single one of his premonitions about royalty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James has very loyal friends who just want his wedding to be perfect lol
> 
> Also, for James' mom it felt kind of weird just referring to her as 'the queen' so I named her Maria! I just googled who the mother of King James was and found it was Mary, but I changed it to Maria bc I liked it better :)
> 
> These first few chapters are pretty James and Keith heavy, but Allura will be appearing starting next chapter so hopefully it'll be more balanced! These chapters are also getting longer (and I have a feeling they'll get even longer with Allura) so they're taking more time to write, but I'm determined to finish this <3 There's a lot more backstory and plot that is yet to be seen...


	4. IV

“Wakey wakey, Prince James! Time to get ready!”

Nadia’s voice echoed through the large bedroom, and at the sound of her and the other two attendants entering the room, he groaned and pressed a pillow to his ears.

“But it’s so early…” Lance muttered, rolling himself further into the thick, luxurious covers of the bed.

“No complaining,” Ryan said as he set a tray of food on the prince’s bedside table. “You’re supposed to meet the princess of Altea today.”

“The princess?” The delicious scent of a royal breakfast suddenly filled his nostrils, drawing him from his sleep almost instantly. “Ooh, are those fresh croissants?”

“Yes, baked this morning,” Ina confirmed, standing by as Nadia pulled various suits from the closet racks.

“So,” the other woman began, “what color do you think will impress Princess Allura? James’ signature orange, an elegant jade green, or maybe a softer, gentle blush pink?”

Lance stared at the variety of clothes thrust towards him on the bed, overwhelming him with the sheer number of choices as he munched on his breakfast. “Uh, I don’t know. What color do you think she’d like?”

“We don’t know either. We’ve never met her before.”

“We haven’t even seen her yet,” Ina added.

Ryan set a hand on Nadia’s shoulder, stopping her mid-grab for yet another suit to throw onto the ever-growing pile. “Maybe he should just wear what he feels comfortable in,” he suggested.

Nadia grinned and nodded in thought. “Ah, so you’re thinking along the lines of the ‘just be yourself’ route.”

“But he’s not supposed to be himself,” Ina interjected. “He’s supposed to be James.”

“Princess Allura and James have never met,” Ryan said. “She won’t know if it’s not him. I think the best course of action is for Lance to act natural.”

“So, I act how I would normally act?” Lance asked.

“Yes and no,” Nadia said, shrugging her shoulders. “Do what you think is best, but keep in mind everything you learned about being a prince! And try to remember James’ most basic traits – he’s kind of shy, super sweet, and really smart.”

“Shy, sweet, and smart – Got it.” Lance took a huge bite out of his croissant, loading it with delicious strawberry jam.

Nadia clapped her hands. “Okay, well that still doesn’t answer the question of what you should wear.” She tapped her chin as she thought, her eyes scanning over the suits she brought out. “Which one catches your eye?”

“Oh, um –” He looked over his options, his eyes catching on a lovely azure jacket with white detailing along the edges. “That one looks nice?” he said, pointing to where it lied on the bed.

“Perfect! Now, hurry up eat so we can get you dressed and looking presentable.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

* * *

It didn’t take long for Keith and James to pack up their meager supplies and prepare to it the road again.

Right when the morning sunlight hit their faces, filtered through the thick canopy of the trees, they were awake and ready to continue on their trek. They quickly ate a bit of the bread and jam that Shiro had packed for them before rolling up their blankets and heading out.

On the walk to the next town, James was awfully quiet. He kept his gaze focused forward, stayed even with Keith rather than trailing behind him, and twisted at the ring on his right hand.

“Is something bothering you?” Keith decided to ask once a suspiciously long time had passed and the prince failed to speak. “You usually talk more than this – Or, you know, _at all_.”

“Sorry,” James said in a low voice. “It’s just – Today was supposed to be the day that I meet Princess Allura.”

“Oh.” He scratched at the back of his neck, fumbling for what to say. “Are you… upset about missing out on it?”

“I mean, kind of? I wasn’t eagerly awaiting the chance to meet her or anything, but I feel bad that I’m not there. She’s probably disappointed … and my mother must be worried sick. I’m surprised that she hasn’t sent the entire royal guard to look for me.”

Keith kicked at a rock as they passed by, keeping his eyes on the ground as he juggled it back and forth, listening to the prince as he spoke. “She, uh, really cares about you, huh?”

“Well, of course,” James said, but Keith noticed a bit of hesitance as he did so. “She might be the queen, but at the end of the day, she’s still my mother.”

“Hm.”

James didn’t say another word, walking silently by his side as he kicked at the rock, hitting it with the toe of his boot to keep his mind off of –

“Hey!” he yelled, skidding to a stop when he saw the prince’s own leather boot knock the pebble to the side, sending it flying into the trees. He punched him lightly in the arm. “Jerk,” he said, but there was no bite to his statement.

“You should’ve been paying more attention to me,” James said with a smug look.

“I apologize for not giving you my undivided attention,” Keith said in a snobby, mocking tone, “my _princess_.”

The smug look was quickly replaced with a pout, the prince’s bottom lip jutting out. “Stop calling me ‘princess’.”

“Sure, princess.”

James huffed, crossing his arms and looking the other way. “You’re insufferable.”

In return, Keith shrugged nonchalantly, flashing him a self-satisfied grin as he shot back, “Hey, I try.”

* * *

Lance stood anxiously in the throne room, Queen Maria seated on his left and Adam standing to his right. He wrung his hands together in an attempt to calm his nerves, but nothing could ease the pounding in his chest. In just a few moments, not only was he was going to be meeting Princess Allura of Altea, but for who knows how long, he would have to pretend to be her fiancé.

“Quit moving,” Adam scolded under his breath, not even sparing him a glance.

He immediately forced his hands to his sides, completely unmoving. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m just… nervous. I’ve never met a princess before.” And if his reaction to meeting Prince James for the first time was anything to go by, he was _not_ good at facing royalty.

“Well, act like you have.”

“Gee, thanks. That really helps,” Lance hissed.

The giant doors to the throne room slowly began to open, and Lance straightened his back to prepare himself for what lied beyond them. As the doors were pulled apart, they revealed Honerva and another man by her side, one with bright ginger hair and a luscious mustache.

The man quickly cleared his throat, taking a step to the side as he gestured towards the open doorway and announced, “Queen Maria, Prince James – I present to you, Princess Allura of Altea.”

A young woman stood in his place, taking graceful steps forward as she entered the room with a small smile.

Lance stared at her in awe, his eyes widening and his jaw dropping ever so slightly.

She looked even more beautiful than the rumors, and after seeing her in person, Lance was certain that there were no words to describe exactly how ethereal her beauty truly was. Her hair fell in gentle waves like a waterfall of liquid moonlight, shimmering in the morning rays. When he looked at her face, he was met with the bluest pair of eyes he had ever seen, a vibrant shade of aqua that outshone the sea. Her features were delicate, and a simple golden circlet adorned her head, crossing over her forehead with a single gem that seemed to glow.

Prince James sure was a lucky man.

“Queen Maria,” Princess Allura greeted, offering a curtsy, “thank you for welcoming us into your lovely kingdom.”

“It is an honor to host you, Princess Allura,” the queen said in return. “You and your people are more than welcome within our borders.”

The queen looked to Lance, waiting for him to speak, but instead found him still gazing at the princess in wonder. She reached out a hand to tug at his sleeve, giving him a discreet smile.

“Jamie, darling,” she said gently so that only he could hear, “why don’t you go introduce yourself?”

“Oh, right.” Lance sucked in a breath and stepped forward to meet the princess, praying to every god he could think of to not let him trip over his own feet. When he finally stood in front of her, he gave a bow and a smile that he hoped didn’t look too awkward. “Princess Allura, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“And you as well,” the princess said, and when she smiled, Lance thought for sure he might pass out from sheer shock.

The two stood together in the center of the room, looking at each other with gradually waning smiles that faded with each growing moment of silence, and it wasn’t until the princess sent him a quizzical look that Lance realized that _he_ was supposed to make a move, because she was a guest in ‘his’ kingdom. But after racking his brain for how to respond, his mind drew a blank, and he hoped that the real prince would forgive him for such a sorry display.

“Jamie,” the queen called, her tone slightly concerned, “why don’t you take Princess Allura on a tour of the castle and get to know each other?”

Lance mentally thanked the queen, wishing nothing but fortune for this sweet woman who unknowingly saved his behind from a literal royal embarrassment.

“That’s a great idea mother,” he said, holding out a hand for the princess to take which she quickly accepted – thank the fucking stars.

Queen Maria smiled as the pair made their way out of the room, leaving only Adam, Honerva, and the mustached man.

“While those two are off having fun,” she began, “I thought that we could work out the final wedding details, if that’s alright with you, Coran.”

“Why yes, of course!” said the mustached man in a chipper tone. “Princess Allura and King Alfor finalized all decisions on Altea’s end regarding the wedding – we’ve picked out everything from what songs to be played during the ceremony to what appetizers to serve at the reception!”

“Wonderful!” The queen clasped her hands together in delight, her expression only wavering when she noticed Honerva’s distant look. “Honerva, is everything alright? Would you like Adam to bring you anything?”

“No, your majesty,” Honerva said, waving her hand dismissively. “It is just that I unfortunately cannot stay – there are some pressing matters I must attend to rather than sorting through wedding details.”

The queen nodding with understanding, rising from the throne to come closer. “If you must go, feel free. I’m sure that Adam will be happy to show you the way out and provide anything you might need.”

“Thank you. I should get going then,” Honerva said, and Adam led the way out of the throne room with her in tow, signaling for the attendants to close the doors behind them.

“Will you be leaving the castle now,” Adam asked wearily, his eyes glinting behind his glasses, “or would you like me to show you to a room where you can work in private?”

Honerva held her hands tightly behind her back, clenching them at his question. “The exit will be fine,” she said, her tone cold as ice.

Adam turned away to show her out, pushing his glasses up his nose as he tried to analyze her every move. “Right away, ma’am.”

As they passed through the castle just as they had the day before, Adam kept a careful eye on her as they moved, glancing at her numerous times and reading her blank expression. At one corner, he saw Ina passing by with a tray of food – likely the one from the prince’s breakfast, now being returned to the kitchen for cleaning – and he mouthed her a brief message.

 _Horse. Front_.

Ina blinked twice, not even pausing in her movements as she continued on her way to the kitchen.

When they reached the entrance, there was a single carriage waiting, clearly Altean – and yet, something about its coachman was decidedly _not_.

“I assume this is yours?” Adam asked.

“Yes,” Honerva said, “thank you again.”

“It is no trouble.” He watched carefully as Honerva climbed inside. “May I ask what demands your presence away from the princess?”

“Just some issues back at Altea, no need for you concern,” she said, not missing a beat. “King Alfor needs me back immediately to resolve them.”

“I see, take care.”

“Yes, and the same to you.”

The carriage rode off, leaving Adam standing and staring after it.

That is, until Ina arrived with a steed of her own, bringing it from around the back of the castle grounds where the stables lied.

“I hope I read your message correctly,” Ina said, hopping down from the saddle of the chestnut horse. “I also took the liberty of packing some supplies and your sword.”

“You read it perfectly,” he said as he took the reins and climbed on himself, strapping the leather sheath to his belt. “If the queen asks, I’ve gone to deal with a huge dispute in the town between two bar owners.”

“How specific. I’m guessing that you’re going after Honerva?”

“Exactly. That coachman didn’t look like someone of Princess Allura’s court, and they certainly didn’t look Altean.” He gripped the reins tightly. “She might be going to where James is. If there’s even a chance that he’s there, I’m going.”

Ina nodded. “Stay safe.”

“Thanks,” he said with a small smile. “Look out for Lance while I’m gone.”

“Of course.”

With that, he urged the horse forward, following the tracks left from Honerva’s carriage in the hopes that it’d lead him to the real prince.

_James, wherever you are, you better be okay._

* * *

Never before had Lance been so grateful for his ability to bullshit his way through a presentation. Years of reading Hunk’s lips, soundlessly relaying information while he himself spoke it boldly to the class were finally paying off.

“And over here,” he began, walking into a gorgeous space with a fireplace, piano, and a table near the window, “is the saloon, where my mother and I will occasionally gather for tea and light conversation, if time allows.” He sent a grateful look to Ryan, who was leading the way through each room while mouthing and miming to him exactly what to say.

“Oh, how beautiful,” the princess mused, her blue and pink cape flowing behind her as she glided over to the window and pressed a hand to the glass.

While the princess was distracted, Lance slid over to stand next to Ryan. “Thank so much for helping me,” he whispered. “I don’t know anything about the rooms in a castle – I would’ve just called this the tearoom, or the living room, or _something_.”

“No problem,” Ryan said. “We don’t want another chapel incident.”

Lance cringed. He didn’t want to think about how he had referred to the chapel as the private theatre, leaving the princess gawking at him as if it were a sorry excuse for a joke. “In my defense, I saw all the seats and panicked.”

“Those were pews. Like in a church.”

“They’re basically the same thing.”

“There was a cross. A huge one, at the front –”

“Listen, bud, I don’t appreciate –”

“Prince James!” the princess called, beckoning him over to the window. He rushed over to join her, and she pointed a slender finger out the window and down towards the ground. “Is this area your garden?”

“The garden?” he said with a laugh – perhaps a bit too exaggerated, but it didn’t really matter – and looked to Ryan out of the corners of his eyes for the answer. “Why, yes, it is the garden!”

Her mood seemed to brighten exponentially, her eyes lighting up as soon as she heard him. “I know that you were taking me on a tour of the castle, but would you mind if we detoured to the garden instead?”

“Of course, we can visit the gardens,” Lance said, linking arms with the princess and gesturing for Ryan to lead the way.

He tried not to think about how his heart skipped a beat when Princess Allura leaned into him as they walked. “When we get there, I’d love to hear all about the flora of your kingdom! I’ve heard that you’re quite knowledgeable on the subject.”

“Oh, yes, I’d love to!” Lance said, and he pushed down the feeling of fear working its way up his throat over the fact that he knew next to nothing about plants. When he looked to Ryan for help, he offered a confused shrug that said that he didn’t know much about it either.

Well, he was royally fucked.

* * *

This had to be a mistake.

“Uh, Keith?” James asked, grabbing the other man by the arm and clinging to him – and based on how he went rigid when the prince touched him, he thought for sure he would be thrown to the ground. “Are we in the right place?”

Keith, in fact, did _not_ throw him to the ground, although for a second, it looked like he wanted to. “Yeah, why?”

“Just checking…” James said suspiciously, walking along as calmly as possible while eying the several Galran soldiers that lurked around the town. “Are you sure we didn’t take a wrong turn into Daibazaal?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Keith said. He too was keeping close watch on the Galra, and as if in an almost protective gesture, he pulled James’ hood down further to hide his face, resting a hand on the prince’s where he still gripped his arm.

“Then why are there so many Galra?” the prince asked.

“This town was attacked by Emperor Sendak a few months back,” Keith explained, speaking under his breath. “Instead of resisting, they surrendered, so now they keep Galran soldiers here to keep watch on the town. The townsfolk pay taxes, send resources, and accept whatever abuse from those sick fucking bastards.” His voice had turned into a growl near the tail end of his story, and it did nothing to ease James’ tensions. “This land still belongs to Griffin, but only by a technicality. It’s basically run by the Galra now.”

“What? I never heard about this!” James said. “This town is so far from the border… How did they get so deep into our territory?”

“I’m not their fucking military strategist,” Keith said.

“It was a rhetorical question.”

The other man finally shook him off his arm, wiping down his sleeve before placing a hand on his hips and gesturing dispassionately to the door. “Alright, we’re here. Time to trade in your fancy suit for some _normal_ clothes.”

“Ooh, exciting!” He stood, staring through the window in awe while Keith simply waited for him to go inside. The prince looked back to him, confusion written on his face. “I’m waiting,” he said in a singsong, tilting his head expectantly.

“For…?”

James let out a small chuckle. “For you to open the door?”

“… You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I’m not,” James said, and it seemed like he failed to grasp what was so decidedly silly about the entire situation.

“Fine, fine,” Keith relented, opening the door and bowing to him, gesturing into the store as he said a quick, “After you,” with the best fancy accent he could muster.

At the sight of James’ satisfied face and him trying to hold in a laugh, it suddenly occurred to Keith that perhaps the prince was feigning ignorance to make _him_ look a fool, and he had fallen prey to his little trap. “Thank you, kind sir,” James said, bopping Keith on the tip of the nose as he made his way all too elegantly into the small shop.

Keith quickly following inside, wiping his nose and hiding his reddening face as he followed James to where he sorted through a few differently colored tunics and coats. It was strange watching him shop, knowing his background as a prince – to any other spectator, he would look like a normal customer, but Keith couldn’t shake the comparison of him resembling a kid in a candy shop. After much deliberation, James picked out a cream one with some simple orange accents, holding it up against the front of his body to check the fit.

“How does this look?” he asked, turning to Keith with his arm out.

“The color suits you,” Keith said. “You look good.”

They grabbed a pair of cool gray pants to match before heading over to the counter to purchase the set, James laying out their choices with a bright smile, and anyone else would think that he was making the greatest purchase of his life.

“That’ll be fifty gold,” said the woman behind the counter, re-folding the clothes and handing them to James waiting arms.

“Actually, we don’t have any money,” Keith said, and the way James’ excitement faded when the woman yanked back the clothes before they even touched his hands was nothing short of heartbreaking. “We were hoping to do a trade-in.”

“No money, no sale,” the woman said firmly. “It’ll do you some good to get out of my store.”

“Wait, ma’am, please,” James called, folding his hands together as if in prayer. “I’ll trade the clothes I’m wearing for those. I think it’ll be more than enough.”

“I’m running a business, not a trade center. If I only accepted trades, I wouldn’t make any money, and I already barely enough to cover what those Galran leeches ask of me.” The woman waved them off. “Now go, you’re taking up my time.”

James stepped away from the counter dejectedly, and Keith thought for a moment that he was looking at a kicked puppy. “Come on, Keith,” the prince said, pulling weakly at his cloak, “we can find clothes somewhere else.”

But Keith wasn’t ready to leave yet. He grabbed James’ wrist, yanking it towards him and holding it out over the counter towards the woman’s face, and she stared incredulously at the fist just inches from her eyes.

“This shirt is made from Altean cotton,” Keith said, his steely gaze focused on the shop keep. “The vest is Arusian silk. It’s got gems mined from Balmera. His entire outfit is worth more than everything in this fucking store, and it could be yours for one set of clothes.”

The woman looked over James’ clothes, focusing on every little detail until she caught onto his left shoulder. “It’s ripped,” she complained.

“It was _cut_ ,” Keith corrected. “And even so, you can fix a little tear. You can’t get luxury fabrics as easily.”

The woman thought to herself for a few moments, her jaw clenched and her eyes latching onto the sight of the Balmeran diamonds that lined the lapels.

“Alright, deal,” the woman said, practically throwing the clothes in James face. “There’s a changing room to your left. Just make it quick.”

Keith ushered James away from the counter and to the curtained room, sending a chilling glare over his shoulder to the shopkeeper, who sent one straight back.

“This place sure has some shitty customer service,” he muttered, yanking back the curtain so that James could step inside.

“You didn’t have to be so aggressive,” James said. “It pays to be polite.”

“Yeah, well, not in this case.” Keith tore his gaze away from the woman to face James, snorting when he saw the prince just staring at him and hugging his new clothes to his chest. “What, are you waiting for me to help dress you?” he teased, a hint of a smirk rising to his face.

The prince scoffed in disgust, pulling the curtain closed and going straight to work with removing his boots and outwear. From the space between the floor and the curtain’s hem, he could see the evidence of James’ stripping from the sight of clothing falling gently to the floor, gathering at his feet that were covered only by a pair of socks – and all of a sudden, it felt way to intimate for him to be standing outside the dressing room while the prince of his kingdom was changing clothes just a few feet away behind a thin drape of fabric.

As he was lost his thoughts, James pulled the curtain back to come out, jumping at the sight of Keith still standing in the way as if he had never moved from his spot.

“Oh, uh, ready to go?” Keith asked, twirling at the ends of his hair as he looked to the store entrance, avoiding any and all eye contact as James sent him puzzled looks.

“I guess so,” James said, holding his old clothes neatly folded over his arm. “I just need to give –”

He didn’t even get to finish his sentence before the shop keep snatched the garments right from him, making her way back behind the counter.

“Okay,” she yelled, “now get out of my store!”

* * *

“What do you know about this flower?” Princess Allura asked, fawning over a patch of soft pink flowers with lots of petals.

“Well, first of all, they’re called ‘peonies’,” Lance said, reading off of the name card that was stuck into the soil near them and trying to weave together a convincing report on them semi-successfully. “They come in a variety of colors, as you can see.”

The princess nodded, pointing towards a similar patch. “These yellow ones are also very pretty. Oh!” She ran over to another section of the garden, and Lance scurried to keep up. “How about these red ones? They’re so unique looking.”

“Those! Yes, those are… gladioluses,” he read not-so-discreetly. “They’re said to bring joy and happiness. You know, like ‘glad’-ioluses.” He chuckled awkwardly and hoped his explanations didn’t sound nearly as stupid as he thought they did.

The princess giggled at his answer, and that was proof enough that yes, they _were_ as stupid as he thought. “You’re very funny, Prince James.” She touched the petals of one of the gladioluses, mindful not to press too hard, and sat down on the brick ledge that held them. “You know, I was very nervous about coming here today,” she spoke in a hush voice.

“You were?” Lance said, sitting down beside her and leaving a slight gap between them.

She hummed in confirmation, giving the flower one last look before retracting her hand and placing both on her lap. “As you probably know, this engagement between us was arranged by our parents. I didn’t have much say in the matter, but my father assured me you were a righteous man who would make for a fine husband.” She looked up at him to meet his eyes. “We have only just met, but I can already tell that he was right.”

Lance let out a small gasp, leaning closer. “Really?”

“Really,” she said with a nod. She then broke into a smile, a quiet laugh falling from her lips as she rose a hand to cover it. “However, that doesn’t mean I’m fully convinced that you’d make a fine husband for _me_.”

His jaw nearly dropped – or maybe it did, and he was too shocked to notice, because he felt the princess’ hand on his chin, pressing upwards to close his mouth.

“Wow, look at those flowers!” the princess said, breaking him out of his temporary trance and running towards another section of the garden. “I recognize these –” she said, “they’re roses, aren’t they?”

As Lance approached, he sighed in relief. Finally, a flower he actually knows _something_ about, even if it’s the bare minimum. “Yes, these are roses. Red ones, to be specific.”

“They’re so vibrant,” Allura said, cupping one of the flower heads in her hands.

“Careful,” Lance warned, placing his hands on her own and pulling them away, “they have thorns on the stems. You might prick yourself if you’re not paying attention.”

“Why, thank you,” the princess said. She looked around to where other rose bushes stood in a variety of colors. “This one also comes in many hues,” she observed.

“That’s right! Each one has a different meaning, too,” he said, boastfully bragging about his paltry knowledge of them.

Princess Allura’s eyes widened and her eyebrows rose to her hairline. “Fascinating! What are some of their meanings?”

Well, he should’ve expected that.

“The red ones –” he said, trying to remember what he learned from the local florist’s sign that he saw from across the restaurant every day. “They represent passion and romantic love!”

“And yellow?” Allura said, making her way through the many different rose bushes.

“That would represent… jealousy.”

Princess Allura brought a hand to her mouth in shock. “Oh my. And purple?”

“Royalty, I believe,” Lance said, and he couldn’t help but be slightly proud of himself for remembering all of this.

“What about pink?” the princess asked, taking a special liking to the pale colored roses.

“Oh, pink?” Lance joined her at her side, reaching to touch the waxy petals of the flower. “These represent sweetness and grace.” Noticing the princess’ interest to it in comparison to the other flowers, Lance moved his hand lower to snap the stem – he hoped that Prince James wouldn’t mind too much – plucking the rose from the bush and offering it to the princess, his face a near identical shade to the rose. “It’s also a good gift to show admiration,” he said timidly.

“Thank you so much,” Princess Allura said, accepting the gift with a loving smile. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah… really beautiful,” he said, and she failed to catch the fact that he wasn’t referring to the rose in her hands. “You seemed to like the pink ones the best.”

“Hm, I do.” She twirled the rose between her fingers, spinning it back and forth with joy written all over her face.

Lance smiled at her. “I remember my mother telling me about your decoration choices for the wedding. You picked pink.”

“That’s correct,” the princess said, tearing her eyes off the flower to meet his. “It’s… It’s the color of mourning in Altea. We use it to honor fallen warriors.”

That answer was _not_ what Lance expected. “Oh?” he choked out, still reeling from her response. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you choose it for your wedding?”

The princess sighed deeply, looking back down at the flower in her hands. “Truth be told, Altea has its own troubles with Daibazaal.”

“But, Altea and Daibazaal are completely separated by Griffin,” Lance said. “There’s no point where the two connect, I thought?”

“There isn’t,” Princess Allura said, “but as you likely know, our southern borders are a coastline. We all connect through the same ocean. The Galra are very ambitious, they travel both land and sea as far as the winds will take them – and they do not stop before reaching my kingdom.

“Altea and Daibazaal used to be great allies, back when Emperor Zarkon was still alive. He and my father – King Alfor – were great friends. During Zarkon’s reign, all of our kingdoms experienced a time of great prosperity. Rather than conquering lands, he would form alliances with them, sharing the riches of the Galran Empire with the world and trading goods with the people.”

“What changed?” Lance asked.

“Their emperor,” the princess answered sadly. “Roughly ten years ago, Emperor Zarkon fell terribly ill, and soon after, he died. The throne was left to his only son, Prince Lotor, but the royal council saw him unfit to lead. Not only was he sixteen – when proper age to ascend the throne is eighteen at a minimum – but he is not of full Galran blood. To make matters worse, he was a child born out of wedlock and his mother is unknown. In his place, Sendak was appointed as the next emperor, having been Zarkon’s most trusted commander.

“Sendak changed everything. He conquered and crushed the towns of foreign lands. He destroyed villages. He was avaricious, voracious – he voided our alliance with Daibazaal and wiped out several of our coastal towns, all in search of valuable resources.”

“That’s… awful,” Lance said.

The princess tightly gripped onto the rose in her hands, nearly avoiding its sharp thorns. “It truly is. We’ve lost many lives to his forces.” She returned her gaze to him, her eyes full of hope and despair, love and suffering, and everything in between. “This marriage – this _alliance_ – between us and our kingdoms is not only beneficial to Griffin, but also to Altea. You have probably viewed this as a way to save your people, and I also see it as a way to save mine. I want this so that no more Altean lives have to be lost in battle against the Galra, but I can do nothing to replace the ones that have _already_ been lost. So, I wish to honor them in our wedding, our union, the joining of our kingdoms – to show that this is for _them_. My people, who I have failed to save.”

Lance was at a loss of words to say. “That is so incredibly noble of you,” he eventually spoke, his voice soft and laced with sympathy. She spoke to him as if he understood what she felt – and he had no doubt that Prince James, the _real_ Prince James, would – but there was no way for him to possibly grasp the weight that she carried. “You’re a very strong leader, and I am sure that you’d make an amazing queen one day. Your people are lucky to have you.”

“You are too kind, Prince James,” she said with a shy smile, and Lance’s heart ached at the sound of a name that wasn’t his and that never would be. “So, why did you choose orange for your wedding?”

He froze. “Oh, well… Orange is my favorite color.”

The princess blink back at him once. Then another time.

Lance just wanted to jump into the rose bushes and hide.

She broke into a fit of laughter, holding the rose in front of her face as she tried to recover. Once she managed to catch her breath once again, she wiped a tear from her eye and looked up at him. “Why, that’s a completely valid reasoning. Not every decision must be made with the fate of our people in mind.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” Lance agreed, and he couldn’t help but feel like he dodged a bullet. “I’m a simple man with simple wants.”

“That’s very commendable – A man who knows what he wants,” the princess agreed.

As they stood enjoying each other’s company, they heard someone calling to them from a distance.

“Princess Allura, Prince James!” Nadia yelled, approaching them with a courteous bow. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s time for Prince James’ vocal lessons. Princess Allura, your royal advisor Coran has some matters to discuss with you.”

“My, how time just flies,” the princess noted. “Thank you for informing me. And Prince James, I had a wonderful time with you.” She waved kindly at him as she walked away, leaving him near the rose bushes. “I feel confident that our marriage will be more of a delight than previously thought!”

“Goodbye, Princess Allura!” Lance said, waving back at her as she disappeared from his sight.

“Looks like someone had a good time,” Nadia said, wiggling her eyebrows at him playfully.

Lance frowned, shoving her to the side. “Oh, just shut up and take me to my dumb singing lessons.”

* * *

James couldn’t help the feeling of restlessness that settled in his stomach ever since entering the town.

“Why are we still here?” he asked Keith, who was currently waiting on a purchase from a street vendor.

“I’m just getting some food,” Keith said, counting the proper amount of gold to cover the costs. “Once we leave, there’s only one other town between here and the castle village, so I’m making the most of it.”

“So, ‘making the most of it’ means buying steamed buns? Really?”

“Hey, it’s my money, I’ll spend it how I want.” Keith bumped their shoulders lightly. “If it annoys you so much, you can just eat jam and bread again. Or maybe a muffin, if you’re feeling fancy.”

James crossed his arms, looking away stubbornly. “Just hurry up,” he muttered.

“Aw, looks like someone wants steamed buns more than he let on.”

He was met with a dignified scoff. “You know, the muffin is starting to not sound so bad.”

Keith hit him in the arm again, leaning against the booth counter while he waited on his food, eyes sparkling at the sight of the delicious, mouthwatering pork-stuffed buns.

As much as he hated to admit it, the prince thought that they looked really yummy, with their craftily twisted tops and sweet, tender fillings –they looked so soft that they would melt in your mouth, and James was certain it would be like eating a cloud.

“ _No! Let go!_ ”

The prince pulled his attention from the steamed buns when he heard a cry from a high-pitched voice, and he felt his heart drop when he saw a girl no older than twelve being grabbed by one of the Galran soldiers.

“I’m sorry!” the girl yelled, trying to pry her arm away from the soldier.

“You stole from this merchant booth,” the soldier sneered. “You’ll pay the consequences.”

A little boy – even younger than the girl – latched onto the female soldier’s leg, hugging it tightly as he pleaded for mercy. “Please! We’ll give back the fruit we stole – just let my sister go!”

The soldier spared no time in kicking the boy to the side, his body scraping across the dry dirt, and as he struggled to get up, it was James that ran to his side to hold him steady.

“What’s going on here?” James demanded, his hood still pulled over his head.

“And who are you?” the soldier fired, and she glared at him with one eye, the other hidden behind a curtain of dark hair.

“I asked first.” The prince helped the little boy to his feet, shielding him behind his own body as he stood to face the soldier. “These are _children_. What do you hope to accomplish by hurting them?”

“They’re _thieves_ ,” she hissed, “and I’m just doing my job to keep this town in order.”

“We were hungry,” the girl sobbed, still pulling against the soldier’s grip. “And we’re sorry!”

James placed himself between the solder and both children, and it seemed to be enough to get her to release the girl’s arm, after which the two hid behind him for protection, holding his cape with trembling fists. He looked around him to see a small crowd gathering and whispering amongst themselves, but they all wore the same look of fear.

They were afraid to step in and help.

He caught Keith’s gaze, who was watching the scene play out with alarm in his eyes. “ _What the fuck are you doing?_ ” he mouthed silently, his hands clenching into fists by his side.

“They offered to give back what they stole,” James said, his voice unwavering. “Why draw this out more than it needs to be?”

“They _ruined_ what they stole,” the soldier said, gesturing to the ground where the fruit lay bruised and scattered, covered in dirt. “You expect them to return that as if nothing happened?”

James narrowed his eyes at the woman. “And what did you plan to do with them? What sort of punishment is fit for petty theft? A slap on the wrist? A stern reprimanding?”

“Jail time.”

“Jail?” James repeated, and it was evident in his tone that he was absolutely furious. “They stole some fruit – how is that a proportional punishment?!”

“You have no authority here,” the soldier jeered – and James was just a hair from yanking down his hood and correcting her, right then and there. “You don’t decide their punishment. _We_ do.” And James knew immediately that she was referring to the Galra, the ‘rulers’ of this town, the ruthless monsters that had left his land and people in tatters.

“No,” he said. “I refuse to let you take these children.”

The woman barked out a laugh. “You? And who do you think you are to stop me?”

“None of your business,” he said, stepping back and ushering the children away. He had wasted enough time on this soldier, and he had a feeling that pulling the ‘prince’ card wasn’t going to do much good. Besides, he didn’t need to use his royal title to do some good for his people.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the woman’s smugness crack, her smirk fading just slightly, and a vein popped out from her neck in anger. He urged the children to keep moving when he heard a the metallic _shing_ of a sword unsheathing, and he pulled them into an embrace to block the blow as he reached for the sword at his own hip –

A sharp _clang_ echoed through the street, and James turned around in confusion over the fact that he was unharmed, catching sight of Keith holding back the soldier’s blade with his own.

“What do you think you’re doing to my slave?” Keith asked in a severe tone, his words like ice down his spine.

James nearly choked on his breath, hugging the children closer as they clung to his clothing. _Slave_?

The soldier looked between him and Keith, her lips pulled taut into a line. “… He’s yours?”

“Yeah, and I don’t appreciate people trying to ruin his pretty face.” Keith lowered his sword, angling the blade so that the detailing on it was in clear view of the soldier. It emitted a faint purple glow, contrasting greatly with the dark metal from which it was forged. “What’s your name, soldier?”

The woman pursed her lips. “Commander Trugg, sir. I was stationed here a few months ago, when we first seized this town.” She sheathed her sword, readjusting the holster on her belt. “What brings you into Griffin?”

“Nothing important. Felt like taking a vacation into our neighboring lands – Daibazaal’s landscape gets dull after a while.”

“I see.” Commander Trugg refocused onto James, cocking her head towards him with a questioning look. “Your slave here seems to be having issues with obeying authority. I’d suggest sending him back for reeducation.”

“He’s feisty,” Keith agreed, giving the prince a brief side glance, and there was something in his eyes that James couldn’t read, but he knew that it left a bad taste in his mouth. “But it makes for a good time.”

_Oh?_

_Oh._

James eyes widened as he finally grasped what Keith was insinuating. If he weren’t depending on the man to save his skin, he’d have decked him right there in the streets.

“You should discipline him,” Trugg said. “Put him in his place.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him tonight.”

“Do you need a hand?” the commander asked, and the devilish smile she wore was dripping with desire and want. “I feel like he owes me after such a display of disrespect.”

“I would,” Keith said, and James felt his teeth grit at the faux deliberation, “but he’s _mine_. No one touches him but me.”

Commander Trugg sighed and backed away with a shrug, clearing done with humoring them. “Alright, I get it. Just keep him in line from now on, or I won’t be as easy next time.”

James could see the tension release from Keith’s body once the commander left their sight, and he turned around to face him, completely livid.

“What were you thinking?” Keith said, grabbing the collar of James’ shirt and yanking him to his feet. “Are you _trying_ to get stabbed at every town we go to?”

“She was going to hurt these children! What was I supposed to do, just _let_ her?”

“It doesn’t matter! You can’t be putting yourself in danger like that!”

“I can’t just stand by and watch when I _know_ that I can do something to help!” James yelled, his nose nearly brushing Keith’s as they argued. He shoved the other man away, ripping his hand off. “Look, just –” He looked back at the two children with sympathy, their big eyes still filled with terror and tears. “Can we buy them some food, too? They said they were hungry.”

Keith looked to the two kids, frowning when they turned their attention to him like a couple of baby birds. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, “we can’t.”

“Why not?” James said. “The vendors are still open. We just need to –”

“I said that we can’t!” Keith repeated. “It’s not that I don’t want to help – I do – but we don’t have enough money!”

“What do you mean?”

Keith groaned, rubbing his temples as he tried to explain. “I mean that we only have so much gold. We have _just_ enough to last us for the rest of our trip. If we give _them_ food to eat, then _we_ don’t have food to eat.”

James’ shoulders slumped as he finally realized the gravity of the situation. Having been raised in a castle, waited on hand and foot, and possessing more money than he could ever possibly need, he never had to worry about such troubles. And now, for the first time in his entire life, he was faced with the flagrant issues of poverty in his own kingdom, and it left him ashamed that he failed to recognize them and that he had the privilege of ignoring them.

“Then I won’t eat,” he decided. “Give my share of the food to them.”

“W-What?” Keith said, his anger finally fading as he processed the prince’s words. “Jamie, wait –”

“I’ll last without one meal, Keith.” James held out his hand, waiting for Keith to give him the food. “Please, just let them have it.”

The other man huffed and pushed past him, nudging him out of the way as he knelt in front of the two kids and pulled out the bag of steamed buns he just bought. He reached a hand in and took out one – still warm to the touch, its sweet scent filling the air – and hesitated, looking between the bag and the single bun in his hand before handing the bag to the children.

“Keith, what are you –” James didn’t get to finish before the bun was shoved into his open mouth.

“I’m used to skipping on meals. Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, holding back a laugh after seeing the prince’s face. “You? Not so much.”

He should’ve expected it when James removed the bun, ripped it in half, and stuffed it into his own mouth.

“Not so fun on the receiving end, huh?” James teased. He looked down at the two children with a smile, watching with content as they scarfed down the steamed buns.

“Thank you, sir!” the girl said, her brother nodding in agreement with a full mouth.

“You’re welcome,” James said, and he took a bit from his own food as he pulled on Keith’s sleeve. “Come on, we should get going.”

“We could’ve gotten going a lot quicker if you hadn’t interfered,” Keith noted.

His snarky remark earned him a bump in the shoulders, James leaning against him and filling his ears with that cute laugh of his. “Hey, that was really smart of you back there. Not that I enjoyed being suggested as your sex slave, but since you saved me _and_ those kids, I’ll give you a pass.”

“For the record, you said it, not me.”

“No, but you sure as hell implied it.” He looked at the steamed bun in his hands, furrowing his eyebrows as a question came to mind. “Why didn’t you just say I was a labor slave or something?”

“Oh please, you’re way too scrawny to be laborer.”

“I’m not scrawny.”

“Okay, slender.” James sent him an unimpressed look. “Fine, how about lean?”

The prince bit into his food with a pleased hum. “I’ll accept that,” he said. “Anyways, that was really clever, showing her your luxite blade so that she’d think you’re Galran. You almost had me convinced.”

Keith fell silent and came to an abrupt stop. “I – It wasn’t a show,” he said softly.

James blinked in surprise. “Wait, what? You’re… Galran?”

“Half,” Keith clarified, and James didn’t miss the way that he lowered his face to hide it. “I’m half-Galran. From my mom’s side.”

“Oh,” James said, and it suddenly all of Keith’s Galran features stood out to him, loud and obvious, and it was a mystery how he never noticed before. “Have… you ever been to Daibazaal?”

“Never,” Keith said bluntly. “I don’t want to either.”

He nearly crushed his half of the steamed bun in his hand, and James could tell that he didn’t want to draw out the conversation any longer.

“Okay,” the prince mumbled, and despite his warm cloak and Keith by his side, he had never felt so cold and alone.

* * *

It had taken the entire day, but he finally made it to a wooden cabin, deep in the forest along the kingdom’s shared border with Daibazaal.

Adam was careful not to be seen by Honerva, traveling far behind them and following their tracks. They barely stopped, not giving the horses any reprieve, and it made for a difficult time in keeping up. Regardless, Adam soon found himself approaching the isolated cabin, leaving his own horse hidden in the trees while he went to investigate.

Honerva and her coachman – if he truly even was one – had gone inside, and Adam tactfully maneuvered to one of the few windows that outfitted the building, peering through the glass.

There, he saw them. Not only were Honerva and her companion there, but there were also two other men, both clearly of Galran descent. The entire group seemed irritated as they spoke, and Adam focused his ears closer on their words.

“You let him _escape_?” Honerva said, her voice seething.

“We didn’t _let_ him,” said one of the Galran guards. “He tricked us and escaped.”

“We tried to follow him, but he got away,” the other added with a snarl.

Honerva scraped her nails against the surface of a nearby table, clearly enraged by the turn of events. “This ruins everything we had planned. The prince has supposedly returned, and wedding is still on.”

“But how?” asked the first guard. “The prince shouldn’t have been able to get back to the castle on foot that quickly.”

“ _Exactly_ ,” Honerva said. “The so-called prince – He never mentioned being kidnapped. He said that he ran away, just like the note.”

“And that means…?”

“It means that whoever is in the castle is not the real prince.” She tore her nails across the wood, the screeching noise hurting their ears at its shrill shriek. “The real prince is out there _somewhere,_ and you _have_ to find him. _Don’t_ disappoint me.”

“Yes, Haggar,” the two guards said in unison, sweat beading down their faces.

“Good. Macidus, let us hurry on to Daibazaal,” Honerva – or was it Haggar? – ordered to the coachman. “We need to let Emperor Sendak know of the change in plans.”

Adam stepped away from the window, quickly going back to his horse to leave. The entire conversation left him deeply troubled. Although, there was a swell of pride at the fact that James had managed to escape on his own.

But that left the question of where the prince had gone. He could be anywhere in the kingdom, so how would he go about finding him?

The obvious answer was that he was on his way back to the castle. Damn James and his selfless nature – even after being kidnapped, _of course_ his first thought would be to return home as soon as possible so not to delay the wedding.

Adam soon came across a road, the dirt imprinted with horse prints and wheel tracks, all leading in a similar direction. With luck, it would hopefully bring him to a town that had seen James and maybe even knew where he had gone.

With a sigh, he urged his horse down the road, wondering to himself how he became the prince’s glorified babysitter.

* * *

Lance grumbled to himself as he attempted to read the same goddamn page for the billionth time.

“I don’t get it. Why do I have to be here –” he whined, gesturing to the many aisles of bookshelves surrounding him, “– instead of in bed getting some beauty rest?”

“The prince spends three nights a week in the library,” Ryan said, flipping through a novel of his own. “He likes to read.”

“Well, the prince is a nerd.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years!” Nadia agreed, snuggling up with the blankets while lying in Ina’s lap.

With a groan, Lance rested his chin on the table, using his finger to focus on what line of text he was reading. No matter how hard he tried, the words and the meaning behind them escaped him, and by the time he reached the bottom of the page, he had no recollection of what he had just read.

“This is hopeless,” he said quietly. “Couldn’t the prince have a better taste in books?”

Everyone jumped when they suddenly heard something fall over, leaving them startled with their heads whipping in the same direction.

“Sorry!” said a voice – Princess Allura’s voice! The princess stood in one of the nearby aisles with a candle in hand, and she bent over to pick up the book she had dropped. She placed it back onto the shelf with a small laugh. “I apologize for interrupting.”

“Princess Allura!” Lance said, slamming his book closed. “W-What brings you here? And, uh, how much did you hear?”

“Queen Maria said that you had a very extensive library, and I can see that she was right,” the princess said, looking at all the shelves in awe. “I wanted to see for myself – I just love learning new things. As for what I heard, I didn’t hear a thing.” She blinked at them with wide eyes. “Why, was it something important?”

“No, no, nothing important,” he said, his voice going up in pitch from his nervousness.

“Would you mind if I joined all of you?” she asked shyly, running her fingers through her hair. “Being in such a large, unfamiliar place is quite intimidating and lonely. I’d like to have some company, even in silence, if you’ll allow me.”

Lance hurried to stand, pulling out the chair beside him and motioning for the princess to sit. “Of course, we don’t mind! Come on, the more the merrier.”

The princess was beaming as she navigated her way between the assortment of pillows and blankets that laid on the floor. She graciously swept the skirt of her nightgown as she took a seat beside him, scooting her chair ever closer.

“Well,” Ryan said, eyeing Lance and the princess with a knowing look, “I think the rest of us should be going. We have to wake early tomorrow to start preparing for the wedding next week.”

Nadia stretched her arms and yawned. “Yeah, I’m beat. Can’t wait to hit the hay.”

“Alright, have a good night,” Princess Allura said, waving goodbye as the three of them got up to leave, and she seemed oblivious to Lance sending them a flustered expression. He immediately pulled himself together when the princess turned her attention back to him, and her eyes lit up when she noticed what he was holding. “Oh, is that _The Legend of Voltron_?”

“Hm?” Lance flipped to the cover of the book, reading over the gold leaf title. “Yes, it is! I just started, so I’m not very far in. Have you read it before?”

The princess shook her head, her white curls bouncing and reflecting the yellow candlelight. “My father recommended it to me. It’s one of his favorite novels, and he thought I’d enjoy it. I always meant to read it, but I never had the time.” She tugged on her sleeve, directing her focus to it and avoiding his eyes. “Would you mind if we read it together? Since you said that you just started… If not, that’s fine.”

“I’d love to read it with you,” Lance said, tilting up her chin to meet her gaze. When he realized what he did, he quickly pulled back his hand, and he was glad that the dim lighting made his blush less noticeable. “W-We can start from the beginning.”

They opened the book to the first page, placing it between them on the table and trading off on reading each passage. With Princess Allura, he found it easier to remain focused on the words written within its bindings, her voice so melodic and mesmerizing that it was difficult not to. When it was his turn to speak, he gave his best effort to display the same amount of passion behind his voice, and he felt his efforts were well worth it when he saw her smiling face, staring at him with wonder in her eyes.

Perhaps the prince had good taste after all.

* * *

After Keith and the prince had left, Shiro’s day was fairly normal. He went to work in the forge to complete some custom weapons for a distant town, went out to buy some fresh groceries to make dinner, and spent his idle time enjoying the peace and quiet that came with living away from a bustling village.

He expected the second day to go similarly, and it did – at least until night came around.

It was while he was sitting outside, relaxing with the clear sky and the galaxies above. He had a hot cup of tea to keep him company as he tried to identify the constellations in the stars.

But then he was pulled out of his tranquility by the sound of someone calling to him.

Shiro shot up, standing and climbing down from the porch to see a man waving towards him on a horse.

A horse that wore the kingdom’s emblem on its collar.

“Excuse me, sir!” the man yelled, the horse trotting towards him and coming to a stop right in front of the house. “I’m sorry to bother you, but have you seen a young man pass through here?”

“I’ve seen a few people pass by. What does he look like?” Shiro asked, eyeing the man with suspicion. He had to be wary – whoever was responsible for capturing the prince might still be looking for him. If _this_ was one of his kidnappers, he couldn’t send him on a trail after him.

The man hopped down from the horse, holding the reins firmly in his grasp. “He has brown hair with a fringe on the left. He’s also pretty tan, and about as tall as my ear.”

“I think I’ve seen someone like that pass through,” Shiro said calmly. “Not sure where he went though. Why are you looking for him, anyways?”

“Sir, if you have any information on what direction he went, please, just tell me,” the man said harshly, the moonlight glinting off his glasses. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

“I asked a question.”

“And I don’t want to answer.”

“Then, why should I answer yours?”

The man narrowed his eyes at him, seeming to be contemplating whether or not to give in. Eventually, he sighed, reaching for something on his belt.

“My name is Adam,” he said, holding out his pocket watch and showing off the royal crest carved into its top. “I work for the royal family of Griffin and am Prince James’ personal advisor. He went missing a few days ago and I’m looking for him.” He lowered his hand, crossing his arms as he stared down Shiro with a menacing gaze. “Now, will you please tell me if you’ve seen him?”

Shiro was taken aback. “Yes, I did see him,” he answered, relieved. “A friend of mine came by here with him two days ago. They left yesterday morning for the castle.”

“Yesterday morning?” Shiro nodded. “If they left yesterday morning, they should’ve arrived already,” Adam said, his face being overcome with worry.

“No, no,” Shiro said, reaching out to the other man to calm his nerves, “they left on foot. It takes a day to travel on horse, but at least three on foot. Normally, it takes at least five days, but my friend knows a shortcut.”

Adam pushed him away softly. “Thank you,” he said, recomposing himself as he turned back towards his horse. “Do you know what path they took? I could try to meet them on the way. The people responsible for the prince’s kidnapping are still on the loose – I want to make sure he’s safe.”

“I don’t know exactly where they went off the top of my head,” Shiro said, “but Keith left a map of their route. I can grab it for you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Adam said with a nod.

Shiro quickly ran inside his home to grab the map, not even hesitating as he grabbed a bag and his sword, making sure to pack some food and gold before going to meet Adam outside.

“I’ve got the map,” he said, holding the roll of paper in his hands.

“Great,” Adam said as he reached to grab it, but it was pulled away. “What do you think you’re doing?” He raised an eyebrow in confusion when he saw the bag slung over Shiro’s shoulder. “And what’s with that?”

“I’m coming with you,” Shiro said with a wide smile.

Adam scoffed. “No, you’re not. Now hand me the map.”

“You said that the prince’s kidnappers are still on the loose,” he began. “That means that the prince is still in trouble, and that means _my friend_ is in trouble. I’m going with you.”

There was a shift in Adam’s expression, an all-too-familiar emotion that Shiro had long since grown accustomed to seeing on Keith’s face – annoyance.

“Okay, fine,” Adam said, climbing onto the horse’s saddle and offering a hand to help Shiro on. “We can rest at midnight, but for now, we have to leave. James’ kidnappers just set out to find him.”

“We better hurry then,” Shiro said with a smile. “I’ll direct while you steer.”

“Alright, just tell me where to go –”

“Shiro,” he introduced. “My name is Shiro.”

“Hm.”

Adam whipped the reins, and the two set off along the worn dirt path, the same one that Keith and Prince James had followed just two days prior.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I intend for this to be 10,000+ words? No. Will I apologize? Also no.
> 
> Lol anyways this one took a while because I realized that I didn't plan out like any of Lance and Allura's scenes past saying they hang out. I've never really written much of them before so I hope it sounds alright!
> 
> Anyways Keith and Adam are basically the same person so that's why they probably don't get along XD


	5. V

The sun hadn’t even risen yet when they left camp.

It was Keith who woke up first. He found himself wide awake around three in the morning, and after an hour of failed attempts to fall back asleep, he thought it best to just keep moving.

Waking the prince was an entirely different challenge. James slept curled up with the blankets wrapped around him so that he stayed warm in the chilly night air. His face was peaceful and even in slumber, he somehow maintained his usual regal aura that left Keith at a loss for how anyone could possibly look good while unconscious.

First, he tried shaking him by the shoulder, but it proved useless. He tried shaking a little harder, but it only ended with James groaning and pulling the blankets closer, his eyebrows slightly knitted together. Keith then attempted to steal the blanket from him, grabbing the edge and tugging it away from the prince’s body, but the prince held it with a death grip that he was unable to break.

Keith frowned, leaning down so that his face was in front of James’ as he continued to shake him by the shoulder. “Hey, Jamie,” he said, his voice still gentler than normal. “Come on, wake up.”

James whimpered and squeezed his eyes tighter, squirming as he repositioned himself. “It’s still dark,” he whined.

“Yeah, but we’re almost to the castle,” Keith reminded. “If we leave now, you’ll be able to sleep in your own bed again starting tomorrow.”

The prince huffed. “I miss my bed,” he muttered.

“And I miss mine,” Keith said. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we both get to go home.”

“Hm.” James rubbed at his eyes, his movements still sluggish. “I miss my mother.”

Keith grit his teeth. “You do?”

“Mm-hm. And my friends. And Adam.”

“Adam?” Keith asked, his eyebrows raising and his pulse quickening.

Instead of responding, James slowly sat up and stretched, twisting his torso as he flexed his arms with a satisfying _crack_. “Adam… He’s probably worried about me,” James said softly.

“Who’s Adam?”

Either the prince failed to hear his question, or he was intent on ignoring him, because James never gave a response. Instead, he took slow breaths while he got onto his feet, the blanket still wrapped around him like a shawl that went over his head. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said, he eyes half-lidded and his voice lacking its normal levelness.

Keith found himself annoyed at the fact that James never answered him, still left wondering who the hell Adam was, but he supposed that would be a question for another time when the prince seemed more sober. “Are you sure? You seem a bit… out of it.”

“It’s because you woke me up,” James pouted, his tone accusing, and he sounded like a child rather than the noble prince that Keith had gotten to know over the past couple of days. “I usually wake up on my own, around when the sun rises. I’m just tired.”

“Well, sorry to interrupt your beauty sleep, princess.”

“Liar. You’re not sorry.”

“Maybe not,” Keith admitted with a grin. “You’re a lot more tolerable like this. I should wake you up early more often.”

“No,” James said, giving him a gentle push. “Don’t.”

“Yes,” Keith laughed as he grabbed his bag. “You… You’re cute like this.”

James shook his head. “Nuh-uh.”

“You are,” he said again, and he found that it held true under other circumstances as well.

“I’m _not_. As your _princess_ ,” James mumbled, his words slurring together and a finger held up to point at Keith – who stared at him with complete and utter shock – and his eyes drooped closed as he spoke, “I order you to stop that.”

Keith blinked owlishly and debated whether or not he needed to clean out his ears, because there was _no way_ he heard that correctly. Regardless, he eventually decided it was best not to argue, smiling to himself when he noticed James taking groggy steps forward to follow him as they began on their way.

“You’re in a good mood now,” James said, his eyelids still heavy as he dragged his feet along. “You weren’t yesterday, when we left that town.”

“It’s not yesterday, and we’re not in that town anymore,” Keith said bluntly. He tightened a hand around the strap of his bag, the nail of his thumb scratching against the leather.

Yesterday, when James nearly got attacked by that Galran soldier. Yesterday, when James found out that he was half-Galra. Yesterday, when James didn’t speak to him for the rest of the night, although he didn’t make any attempt to reach out to him either.

His heart throbbed at what it might have meant. That the realization that Keith shared blood with the people responsible for James’ struggling kingdom, his father’s death, his own arranged marriage – It might be enough to erase any bit of familiarity between them.

And for some reason, the thought hurt more than it should have.

“I like it when you’re in a good mood,” James said suddenly, and his chipper voice pulled Keith from his own self-detrimental thoughts. It was reassuring, to say the least.

“Really?”

James hummed in confirmation. “You’re nice. I like it when you’re nice.”

“I’m not nice very often,” Keith said. His eyes were downcast. “Especially not to you.”

“You are, though. You agreed to take me home, you saved me – multiple times – and you bought me some yummy food.”

Keith snorted from amusement. “Yummy?”

“Yeah,” James said, tilting his head in confusion. “Why, what’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Keith said too quickly to be natural, and the prince seemed unaware enough to simply accept his shoddy response.

It didn’t matter what James insisted. He was right. The prince _was_ cute.

* * *

“Are you sure they went this way?” Adam asked, staring at the map that was laid out on the forest floor.

“Yes, Keith was really clear about where he was going,” Shiro said. “He always takes this route – it’s the most efficient.”

Adam didn’t seem convinced. “Why does he have to stop at all these towns?” he said, pointing a finger to where red ink indicated their course of travel. “Why not take a straight shot to the castle?”

“Well, since they’re walking, they need somewhere to gather supplies.”

“They could do that before they leave,” Adam said, clearly irritated.

“I guess,” Shiro said, scratching his head. “But, uh, that’s a lot to carry, wouldn’t you think?”

The other man just sat silently as his eyes pored over the map. “I just don’t see why your friend didn’t just choose the fastest route possible.”

“It is, if they don’t want to exhaust themselves.” Shiro smiled nervously at Adam, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “Hey, you seem kind of tense. Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” Adam spat, bringing a hand to his temple.

His face was like a statue, the only signs of distress being the slight furrow of his eyebrows and his tightly drawn lips, but despite his perfect mask, Shiro could sense all of the unease that radiated from his very being.

“James – every day that he’s gone is another day that he’s in danger,” he explained, his voice tight as if he were holding back all his frustrations with a single thread. “The king asked me to protect him, even when he could not, and I promised him that I always would. It’s already my fault that I let him get kidnapped in the first place. The sooner he’s home, the sooner I can make sure he’s _safe_ again.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault that the prince was kidnapped,” Shiro said firmly. “It’s not your fault that _someone else_ decided to target him. Right now, you’re doing your best to find him and that’s what matters. He’ll be alright.”

“I hope so,” Adam sighed. “He’s… like family to me. I don’t think I could live with myself if I let something happened to him.”

“Don’t worry. Keith is more than capable of keeping him safe until he either reaches the castle or meets up with you.”

Adam lowered his gaze. “I’d feel a lot less worried if I knew who this Keith person was.”

“I’ve known him for years,” Shiro said, smiling softly. “You can trust him. I certainly do.”

“How well do you really know him?” Adam asked warily.

“I like to think I know him pretty well. I met him when he was pretty young, a little after...” He paused, shaking his head. “Anyways, I took him in, and we’ve been best friends ever since. I’d trust him with my life.”

He could tell by the way that Shiro spoke that he meant every word, and it did help to calm his nerves, even just a bit.

“I hope I can trust him with James’…” Adam said.

* * *

Keith barely even registered the tap on his shoulder.

“Hey, do we still have any of those muffins left?” James asked. The blanket was still wrapped around his shoulders, but Keith could tell by the look of his face that he was much more awake than before. His posture was perfect, his movements were more stable, and his eyes regained a sense of clarity that they had been missing before.

With a second glance, Keith noticed that they looked a pale dusky blue and honey brown in the dim morning light.

“I think we have some.” he said, shrugging his bag off his shoulder to find their stock of food. He handed the prince a couple before slinging it back on. “You look a lot more awake now.”

“Well, the sun is starting to rise, so I’m feeling a lot better,” James explained, taking a bite out of one of the muffins. He looked down at the food in his hands, twisting it around as he thought. “Hey, uh… I didn’t say anything weird when you woke me up, did I?”

Keith seized up. “Weird… how?”

“I don’t know. I guess just something that I wouldn’t normally say?”

“We haven’t known each other that long,” Keith said, looking away so that he wouldn’t have to meet the prince’s gaze. “I wouldn’t know what’s considered ‘normal’ for you.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right,” James said. He laughed to himself, shaking his head. “Sorry, it’s just – Adam says that I act funny when I’m sleepy. I’m afraid I don’t really remember much when I’m like that.”

“You didn’t say anything too weird,” Keith said quickly.

“I didn’t?”

Keith shook his head and focused all of his energy into looking as natural as possible. “Nope, nothing too out of the ordinary.”

“That’s a relief,” James said with a sigh, taking another small bite of food. “I would hate it if I embarrassed myself and made things awkward between us – After all, we’re still stuck with each other for another day.”

“Yeah, just one more day and we’ll never have to see each other ever again,” Keith said, and for some odd reason, the thought left a bile taste on his tongue. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but who’s Adam?”

“Adam? Why do you want to know?”

“You mentioned him a few times,” Keith said, scratching the back of his neck. “You said you missed him. You know, while you were all sleepy and loopy.”

James’ lips formed an ‘O’ and his cheeks flushed a light pink, and Keith pretended not to glance over at the prince as he waited for an answer. “I do miss him,” James said after a bit of silence. “By title, he’s my personal royal advisor. But in reality, he’s so much more. I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t by my side for longer than a few hours. Well, other than now, of course.”

“You two are close, huh?”

“We are,” James said, nodding. “I guess he and I are kind of like you and Shiro – at least from what I could see of you two. You’re comfortable with each other, you care for each other, and you love each other like family. That’s kind of how I feel about Adam.”

“So… you love him?” Keith asked.

“Yeah. I do.” He stopped walking, the toe of his boot digging into the ground as he poked at the dirt with a sad smile. “Although, I never realized exactly how much until now.”

Keith reached out towards him, his hand hovering over James’ arm as he wondered whether he should or shouldn’t, if it was appropriate or not, if he would even _want_ the gesture or if he would hate it. He lowered his hand, bringing it down to his side with a firm fist, and he instead took a step forward to look the prince in the eyes.

“Look, we’re going to get you home,” Keith said. “I know that you probably think that the only reason I agreed to this is because you offered to pay me –”

“It was,” James cut in.

“– _but_ I promise, no matter what it takes, I’ll take you to the castle. Money or no money.”

James smiled, the corners of his lips curling up just ever so slightly. “Thanks, Keith,” he said, and his voice was barely a whisper as he opened his mouth to speak. “I really appreciate –”

They both jumped at the sudden sound of rustling bushes further up the path, a faint whimper coming from up ahead. James placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, Keith had already unsheathed his own and held it in a defensive stance – and in the panic, the two ended up reaching for each other, with James clinging to Keith’s bicep while the latter placed a hand in front of his stomach protectively.

“What do you think that was?” James asked, his voice low.

“Not sure. Stay here while I check.”

Keith took a step forward only to be pulled back and shot with a reprimanding look.

“No, I’m going, too,” James said. “I can handle myself.”

If he had learned anything about the prince within the past few days, it was that he had more guts than Keith would’ve ever thought him to have. “Alright,” he said, not even arguing. “But stay behind me.”

James silently agreed as they moved forward towards where the sound was coming from. They were both ready for a fight, if need be, and as they neared the source of the noise, Keith tightened his grip on his sword, and James slowly began to pull his from where his was strapped to his belt –

A small ball of fluff rolled out from the bush, shaking its head as it laid on its back and blinked at the pair with big, golden eyes.

The prince immediately refastened his sword as he pushed past a shocked Keith. “Aw, it’s a wolf pup!” he said, admiring it from a distance with the most innocent expression Keith had seen on him yet.

“That’s strange,” Keith noted, grabbing James’ collar before he could go any closer. “Wolves don’t normally abandon their pups at this age. He’s too old to have been abandoned as a runt.”

“Do you think its mom is around?” James asked. He was just itching to run over to the pup and pet its soft fur, and the way that it stared at him and rolled in the grass was enough to melt his heart a thousand times over.

Keith looked around suspiciously. “I don’t think so. I feel like we’d know if she was around.”

“What if something killed her?” James realized. “This poor little guy… he’s all alone.”

“Maybe,” Keith said, frowning at the pup as it ran towards them and circled their legs, and after being giving a pleading look from the prince, he finally released him, and James wasted no time crouching down to gather the friendly little pup in his arms.

“He’s so sweet,” James noted, and not a second later, the pup began chewing on the fabric of his sleeve. “Hey, don’t do that,” the prince said with a laugh. “You must be hungry, huh?”

Keith kneeled to look at the pup, and the two found themselves staring at each other intently. The pup was a decent size – if they were standing, it’d probably be around the height of their knees – and his fur was a gorgeous mix of deep black and gray.

“Isn’t he pretty?” James asked, smiling when the puppy decided to pounce onto Keith and attack him with licks.

“Woah, calm down there, little guy,” Keith said as he ran his hands through the wolf’s soft, luscious fur. “You’re right – he is. I wonder how he ended up by himself.”

“Me too.” James watched as Keith sat with the pup in his lap, nudging his nose to sniff at his hand and face. “Hey, you should keep him,” the prince said. “I think he really likes you.”

“Me?” Keith looked down at the puppy, and he was met with a face that he was certain resembled a grin. “I’m not sure. It might be better if you kept him.”

“As much as I’d love to, I think he’d be happier with you,” James said, hugging his knees and petting the wolf contently. “I’d be too busy to spend much time with him and I’d probably have to have other people care for him.” The prince sighed. “I think he’d like living out in the countryside with you and Shiro. It’s calm and there’s lots of room for him to run around. I just don’t think he’d have much freedom living in a castle. I sure don’t.”

Keith slowed his movements, scratching the pup behind his ears as he looked at the prince, and he knew that despite his outward eagerness to go home, it meant the end of his short-lived freedom from his royal duties. “Are you sure? Who knows, maybe he’d like being spoiled by all the castle staff.”

James chuckled quietly. “Maybe. But still… you seem like you could use the company.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith asked.

“Sorry,” James said, and Keith realized that his question may have come out more accusatory than he’d intended. “It’s just that… I know you said you like the peace and quiet, but it seems like it’d get lonely being out there alone.”

“I’m not alone,” he corrected. “I have Shiro.”

“Shiro is _one person_. Besides, I think both of you would do well with another face around.”

Keith returned his eyes to the pup, and after trying and failing to resist his adorable little face, he gave in. “Okay, I guess I could take him. It’ll be an extra mouth to feed, but we’ll make it work. Besides, you still owe me over ten thousand gold,” he said with a smirk.

“Ten thousand and two hundred,” James said. “And I thought you said you’d take me home ‘money or no money’?”

“If it came down to it, yeah. But I’d prefer with the money.”

James rolled his eyes. “You’re so greedy.”

* * *

The feeling of falling on his butt was becoming annoyingly familiar.

“Prince James,” asked Commander Iverson, standing over Lance as he pulled himself to his feet for the fourth time that day, “are you feeling well? You’re usually quite proficient with your swordsmanship.”

Of course, he would be; the prince had probably been training for most of his life, whereas Lance had never needed to pick up a sword before coming to the castle. Every muscle, every bone in his body was sore from being thrown into such intense training sessions day after day.

Lance could barely manage his way through one lesson per day. How could James somehow survive four?

“Yes, yes, I’m fine! Just a bit distracted lately – You know, with the wedding preparations going on,” Lance said, dusting off his clothes.

“Perhaps we should take a five-minute break?” Iverson suggested. “And maybe we could go over some basic sword stances.”

“Sounds great!” Lance scurried off to the side bench where Ryan sat with some water and a towel, and he gratefully accepted both. “Hey, uh, how much longer is this going to last?” he asked, careful not to let anyone else hear.

“About half an hour,” Ryan said.

He held back a scream of frustration. “Half an hour? I don’t know if I’m going to last that long!”

“If it gets to be too much, just say that you’re feeling a little under the weather,” Ryan said. “We’ll pretend you’re ill and I’ll take you back to the prince’s bedroom.”

“That sounds like a coward’s way out,” Lance complained.

“It’s either that or get your ass kicked for another thirty minutes.”

Lance grumbled to himself as he once again picked up his sword, turning it around in his hand to get a feel for its weight. “Okay, fine, I’ll take the butt-whooping.”

The door to the training room gently creaked open and the two turned their head to face it. Both raised their eyebrows in surprise when they saw the white head of hair peek through.

“Hello?” Princess Allura greeted shyly. “Prince James – I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all!” Lance said quickly. “Just taking a little breather before going back at it.” He made a few small and playful jabs with his sword, slashing at an imaginary enemy while Ryan did his best to conceal an eyeroll. Lance smiled when he noticed the princess laughing to herself, a hand raised to hide her grin.

“Queen Maria insisted that I watch you practice. She said your swordsmanship is quite a feat to behold.”

“She did?” Lance chuckled nervously. “Oh, no, she’s just exaggerating… I’m not that great. You know moms, right?”

“I suppose I’ll be the judge of that,” Allura said with a smirk, sitting down on the bench near the wall.

When Iverson called out for him to return to the center of the room, Lance couldn’t help but feel his legs turn to jelly. How was he supposed to feign over ten years of experience when he had _none_?

“Let’s start with some basic guards,” Iverson said, standing beside him. He held his sword out in front of him, his arms straight and the blade pointed up at an angle. “Long point guard.”

Lance quickly copied his position, paying special mind to how his feet were placed.

“Fool’s guard,” he said, lowering his sword to point near the ground, and Lance once again followed his example.

He looked out of the corner of his eye to see the princess watching with interest. Her eyebrows were slightly knitted as she analyzed his movements, and he felt his heart race as he hoped he wasn’t doing too terribly.

Iverson lifted the sword to be level with his ear, the blade parallel to the floor. “Ox guard.”

Just like before, he mimicked the commander’s stance, gripping the sword tightly in his hands, twisting them anxiously around the hilt.

“Your stance is quite beautiful, Prince James!” Allura complimented. “Although, your footing could use a slight bit of work. Perhaps moving your right leg back would help to steady your positioning?”

“Thank you for the suggestion, Princess,” Lance said, sliding his right foot back against the ground, and his face brightened when he found it to be more comfortable. “Oh, wow, that actually really helped!”

“Are you familiar with the longsword, Princess Allura?” Commander Iverson asked, relaxing his stance.

She turned away with a light laugh. “Oh, not really. Just a little that I gleaned from watching my father.”

“Would you like to try, Princess?” Iverson offered.

Lance nodded. “Yeah! You can ‘spar’ with me,” he said, using air-quotes as he spoke. “It’ll be fun.”

“Hm, well I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try,” she said, standing and joining Lance on the training mat. Ryan brought over a sword for the princess, making sure that it was an appropriate weight for her to hold.

With the guise of nonchalant confidence, Lance held his sword in the starting position and smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Princess. I promise to go easy on you.”

Allura brought her sword up to mirror his. “How considerate of you, Prince James.”

Commander Iverson and Ryan cleared the area. “Duel!” yelled the commander, signaling the beginning of the fight.

If it could even really be called that.

Immediately after the duel began, the princess collided her sword against Lance’s, the metal ringing through the room. She wore a knowing smirk on her face as she took the offensive and drove him back and until his sword was knocked to the floor, and she pointed her weapon to his heart.

“It seems I’ve won,” she declared. “Perhaps you _shouldn’t_ have gone easy on me.”

Lance gulped, confused as to whether he should be scared or impressed. Admittedly, he was both.

“ _Wow_ ,” he breathed, and he found that it was all he could manage in the moment.

* * *

“We should name him,” James said suddenly, holding up the wolf pup in front of him. He smiled as he saw the pup wag his tail and excitedly try to lick his face, eventually giving in and bringing him closer with a laugh.

Keith scoffed. “Why?”

“I mean, if you’re going to keep him, you should name him. It’s just something you do with pets.”

“I don’t need to name him,” Keith said, not even pausing as he walked onward. “He can decide that on his own, and he’ll tell us when he’s ready.

If it were possible, James knew that his jaw would be on the forest floor by now. “‘ _Tell us when he’s ready_ ’? He’s a wolf – He can’t _talk_.”

He didn’t get a response.

With a huff, the prince shifted his attention back to the cute bundle of fur cradled in his arms. “What do you think of ‘Fluffy’?”

“‘ _Fluffy_ ’?” Keith choked out. “Are you five?”

“Fine, um… What about ‘Wolfie’?”

Keith shook his head. “That’s just stupid. I mean, he’s a wolf – Why would you _name_ him that?”

The prince held the wolf closer. “You don’t have to be so mean about it,” he muttered. “What kind of things are you interested in? Like hobbies?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Well, if he’s going to be _your_ wolf, maybe we should name him something to do with you.”

Keith ignored the holes in the prince’s logic as he racked his brain for an answer. “Okay, um, I like fighting, knives, swords, making new weapons –”

The prince cut him off. “Do you have any less… _violent_ hobbies?”

“Uh…” He was taken aback by the sudden interruption, and he suddenly found that a majority of his interest revolved around his occupation. “I like stargazing?”

The prince looked back at the wolf in his arms, his brows furrowed in thought. “Hm… How about Kosmo?”

“‘Kosmo’?” Keith repeated. “What kind of name is that?”

“You know, like the sun, the stars, the moon –” James explained, his hand gesturing towards the sky as he spoke. “The cosmos, but with a ‘K’. Like ‘Keith’.”

“That’s… the most _ridiculous_ thing I’ve ever heard.”

“This coming from the man who expects a wolf to just _tell him_ his name.”

He should’ve expected the gentle shove he received.

“Fine,” Keith relented, and even though he turned away, James didn’t miss the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Kosmo it is.”

The newly named Kosmo howled with joy from James’ arms, and the prince swore that the wolf was grinning at them.

* * *

When they reached the first stop on Keith’s map, Shiro figured it’d be a good time to relax and take a break.

Adam seemed to think otherwise, because as soon as they arrived at the village, he went straight to gathering supplies and preparing to leave again.

“I know you want to find the prince as soon as possible, but it’s okay to rest a little,” Shiro suggested. Adam opted to ignore him instead, shoving food into his arms as he went through a mental checklist of what they might need.

“I’ll rest when the prince is home and safe,” Adam stated after a while of silence. He adjusted his glasses, pushing them up the bridge of his nose as he stared at Shiro with cold eyes. “I understand that you’re just trying to defuse the situation and calm my nerves, but nothing you say is going to help until I see James for myself. Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Shiro looked at him sympathetically, his arms shifting as he carried their things to the horse waiting outside. “Look, if this is about not trusting Keith –”

“My worrying has nothing to do with whether or not your friend is capable of protecting the prince,” Adam snapped, his boot hitting the ground loudly as he came to a halt. His words came out harsher than he meant, and he took a deep breath to calm himself, at least on the surface. “I’ve never been away from the prince this long before. I’m just – I’m so used to having him around. Not knowing where he is or how he’s doing… It’s _killing_ me inside.”

“I… I’m sorry,” Shiro said. He offered a small smile. “If it’s worth anything, I understand what you’re going through.”

Adam pursed his lips, his face full of suspicion. “You do?” he asked, voice doubtful.

“Yeah, you won’t believe how many times I’ve worried about Keith while he’s away,” Shiro said with a laugh. “He tends to get into trouble a lot – Every time he leaves, I wonder if I’m ever going to see him again.” He packed away their supplies and patted Adam on the back. “He always comes back though. I’m sure the same will go for Prince James. From what I saw of him, he seems pretty capable of handling himself.”

“He is,” Adam said with an amused snort, reminiscing about all the times he helped the prince spar. He ran his hands down his face as he let out a bitter laugh at the entire situation. “I’m just… overprotective, I guess. Ever since the king died, I’ve put it on myself to take care of James. It’s hard to accept that he can take care of himself… and that he doesn’t need me anymore.”

His voice softened as he spoke those last few words, his expression wilting. Shiro stood awkwardly by the man’s side, unsure of how to react. After all, what are you supposed to do when a man you just met begins pouring out his innermost feelings to you? Should he leave him be? Should he intervene? Is it even his place to do _anything_?

Luckily, Adam didn’t give him a chance to act before he let out a deep sigh and reverted back to his normal state, reaching for the reins of the horse and hopping onto the saddle. “Come on,” he said, as if the past few moments never happened. “We’ve wasted enough time here – we can eat while we move.”

Shiro figured it’d be best to go along with it, and when Adam offered him a hand to help him on, he accepted with a smile.

* * *

Lance never thought he’d miss Hunk’s cooking as much as he did.

There was nothing wrong with the food that the castle staff prepared. On the contrary – it was absolutely _delicious_ , made with nothing but the highest quality of ingredients and imported delicacies, but it lacked a certain sense of home that only food from Hunk or his mom had.

For lunch, he was scheduled to eat with the queen and Princess Allura. However, the queen’s meeting ran long and by the time lunch rolled around, he and the princess found themselves entering the dining hall alone.

“Should we wait to eat?” Lance asked as a feast was laid out before him. The princess sat to his right, neatly folding her napkin onto the skirt of her dress and adjusting her silverware.

“Don’t be silly, Prince James!” Nadia said with a dismissive wave of her hand, a tray of freshly baked biscuits on the other. “Queen Maria said not to wait for her, so just go ahead and enjoy the meal! No use in wasting perfectly good food.”

“It’s best to eat while it’s hot,” Ina added. She carefully made her way between them to pour some cider into their glasses.

Their meal passed by pleasantly. He and the princess exchanged a bit of casual conversation, and he was surprised to find that it came quite natural for him. Allura didn’t ask about his duties as a prince – that of which he would be at a complete loss for what to say – but instead asked about his life as a _person_. His hobbies, his interests, who he truly was –

The only problem was that he wasn’t supposed to be himself. He was supposed to be _Prince James_.

“So, Prince James,” Allura began, gently setting down her fork as she reached for a drink, “what do you spend your free time doing?”

“Well, I don’t have much,” he joked, and he prided himself on the smile Allura gave, “but with the little extra time that I do have, I like to just travel the streets of the village. See what’s around, meet the people. If I see something interesting, I buy it – I like collecting fun stuff I see from the market. Sometimes, I try to experiment in the kitchen. A good friend of mine likes to cook and is really good, so I’ve learned a thing or two from him.”

The princess raised her eyebrows in amazement, and it suddenly occurred to him that maybe he was giving a bit too much information on his _actual_ life.

“Oh, and read! I like to read,” he added with a nervous chuckle, and he ran a hand through his hair as he tried to play it off.

“You know how to cook?” the princess asked. It seemed like she didn’t even hear the last thing he said. “That’s very impressive! I’m surprised that the kitchen staff allows you to do so – mine certainly wouldn’t.”

“It’s not too hard once you understand the basics,” Lance explained. “Baking is actually a bit easier in my opinion. You just mix together the ingredients, throw it in the oven, and thirty minutes later, you have a cake!”

Allura’s lips formed a small ‘O’ as she listened intently. She tugged at her hair timidly as she opened her mouth again to ask a question. “Do you think… you could show me how to make something?”

Lance was thrown for a loop, and it took a moment for him to recover from what she said enough to respond. “Show you… how to make something? Like, food? That we can eat?”

“Yes!” she confirmed with an enthusiastic nod of her head. “I’d love to learn something new – you can pick the dish, although it’d be nice to make some of Griffin’s traditional cuisine.”

“O-Of course!” he said, and he frantically motioned for Rizavi to inform the kitchen staff of their upcoming arrival while he and the princess stood from their seats. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her give a mock salute before bolting away. “I guess we can just make our way back to the kitchens and get started.”

“This is so exciting!” Allura mused as Lance led the way, holding onto his arm as they went. “I’ve never been inside the kitchens before. I always wondered what it would be like back there.”

“Well, today’s your lucky day, then!” Lance said, and he pushed open the doors with confident smile.

Finally, something that _he_ was good at and not something he had to _pretend_ to be good at. He may not be the best chef – no, that title _clearly_ belonged to Hunk – but he certainly picked up a thing or two from being best friends with a culinary genius. Hunk made it his mission to teach Lance a few staple recipes that would be sure to impress anyone important, and what better time than now to put that knowledge to use?

Not only that, but the kitchen was a familiar place. Sure, it wasn’t _his_ kitchen, but it was a kitchen, nonetheless. No fancy tea rooms, chapels, or ballrooms meant for two hundred guests. Just a simple, comfortable kitchen –

Filled with twenty shocked faces staring at him.

“P-Prince James?” one woman said with a shaky voice. “What brings you to the kitchen? Was your meal not up to standard? We can remake anything that left you unsatisfied –”

“No, no, the food was perfect!” Lance assured.

It suddenly struck him that – perhaps, like the princess – Prince James has _also_ never entered the kitchens.

“I’m absolutely stuffed,” Lance said when he noticed that the fear on the staff’s faces didn’t leave them. “Truly! You know, because it was so delicious that I ate so much! No need to worry.”

“Thank you greatly for the meal,” Princess Allura said to the staff, bowing her head in thanks. “It’s an honor to dine here at the castle.”

The tension in the room eased slightly, although some of the staff were still on edge. “If you enjoyed the meal… what are you doing back here?” someone asked, only to be hit in the arm by another staff member for speaking out of turn.

“I just wanted to use the facilities to, well, cook,” Lance answered honestly. “Is… that alright?”

“It’s more than alright!” said the woman from before. “But, um, are you sure you know what you’re doing? We wouldn’t want you to get hurt or –”

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Lance said flippantly, and the woman immediately shut her mouth. The room looked at him in confusion. “I, uh, come back here at night to practice.”

“The kitchen is only left unattended from midnight to five a.m.?” noted a small woman near the front.

“Uh, yes?” he said. He stood tall and kept a straight face, not letting his nerves get the best of him. He couldn’t let anyone see through his lie, so confidence was key. “I come down here then.”

Everyone in the room fell silent, and only a single cough could be heard. Ignoring all the eyes on him, Lance pulled Allura to an open counter where they could work.

Allura didn’t seem fazed in the slightest from their interactions with the kitchen staff. “So, what did you plan on making today?” she asked, eager to begin.

“I was thinking of making some bread pudding,” Lance said. “It’s got a lot of ingredients, but otherwise it’s pretty easy –”

“We can get the ingredients for you, Prince James!” said one of the staff members, quickly running to the other side of the kitchen island. Others lined up beside them, all offering to grab ingredients and supplies.

“Um, okay,” Lance said with an awkward smile. It was strange having so many people so eager to please him, but he supposed that the plus side was that he had less work to do. “Let’s see… for the bread pudding itself, I’ll need day-old bread, six eggs, some sugar, vanilla…”

As he listed off ingredients, the staff ran about the room gathering them, dropping them off at the counter and handing him the necessary baking dishes and whisks. By the time he finished recalling the ingredients, they were all sitting right in front of him, and he and the princess went to the sink to wash their hands before finally beginning.

“So, first we need to cut the bread into small cubes,” Lance said, handing the knife to Allura. “About one inch should be good.”

“Alright, I can do that!” she said, and she brought the knife down onto the crust of the bread, sawing away happily.

As she did that, Lance sorted through the ingredients to measure out what they needed. He noticed the princess cutting the bread into slices and didn’t pay too much mind until he noticed her trying to cut the cubes.

“Oh, wait, don’t hold your hand like that!” he warned, easing the knife away as he adjusted her left hand. “You should curl your fingers and press the flat of the blade against your knuckle – it makes it less likely that you’ll cut your finger.”

“I never would’ve thought that something so small would be so important,” the princess noted. She tried cutting the bread and smiled. “Thank you! This is quite an improvement.”

While she went about slicing the rest of the bread, Lance carefully measured everything and put the bread cubes into their dish. When Allura finished cutting, she had a look of pride on her face.

“It may seem silly since all I’ve done so far is cut bread, but I’m quite happy with what we’ve accomplished so far,” she said. “Back in Altea, I never really get to do anything for myself. Most everything is done for me. Simple tasks like this are very rewarding to do.”

“Yes, it gets tiring having everything done for you,” Lance agreed. As nice as it’s been posing as the prince, he missed being able to live his life without someone there to wait on him hand and foot. “Are you ready to mix the ingredients?”

“Ooh, yes!” She picked up one of the eggs that had been placed in the bowl. “How do I crack it?”

Lance laughed and simply placed his hand on hers, hitting it against the countertop a couple of times. “Just hit it against a flat surface and pull the shell apart,” he instructed. “That way it doesn’t get the shells in it.”

They worked together cracking the rest of the eggs and pouring in the ingredients. Allura was all too excited to get her hands dirty and add everything together – she was maybe a bit too overzealous when pouring in the milk, if the splatters on the counter were anything to go by – but it was interesting seeing act so… unroyal.

Lance couldn’t help but smile as he watched her mix the batter with an abundance of energy, looking up at him every few seconds with a beaming face as if to say, “Look! I’m really doing this!”

When the time finally came for them to pour the mixture on top of their bread and put it in the oven, he practically had to hold her back from getting too close to the oven.

“It’ll take about forty-five minutes to bake completely,” Lance said, holding her arm to keep her away from the oven’s fire.

“Oh, but that’s so long!” she said. She kept peering into the oven, tilting her head all sorts of directions to get a better look. “I suppose I’m so used to having things brought to me right when I ask,” she admitted with a breathless laugh. She shook her head as she finally resigned to waiting. “It couldn’t hurt to be patient this once. It’ll be humbling.”

“It shouldn’t be too long,” Lance said. “We still need to make the caramel sauce for it!”

Allura gasped, clasping her hands together with joy from the sheer thought of cooking more. “There’s still more left to do? What are we just standing around for, then?”

“Just hold on,” he said with a humored chuckle, pulling her back to the counter. He measured out the sugar and handed it to her. “Will you do the honors?”

She took the sugar with a grin. “I would love to.”

They poured in water and Lance brought the mixture over to the stove, stirring as it heated up. Princess Allura gradually poured in heavy cream and guava jelly, and by the time it was done and cooled, the bread pudding was nearly ready to be pulled out from the oven.

The bread pudding turned out beautiful. The color was golden and the edges just slightly crisp – and when they drizzled the caramel sauce over top, it was truly a sight to behold and left their mouths watering and the kitchen staff incredibly impressed.

In fact, the entire kitchen staff let out a collective sigh of relief after seeing that the prince – who, to their knowledge, had never entered the kitchen before today – did _not_ make poison.

“Ready to eat?” Lance asked, lifting his fork.

“Absolutely,” Allura said, and they _clinked_ their forks together before taking a bite. The princess’s eyes seemed to sparkle from wonder at the taste. “This is one of the best things I’ve ever eaten!” she said. “I can’t believe that I made this – that _we_ made this!”

“I can,” Lance said with a shrug, and he looked away shyly. “After all, you’re so amazing already. It’s no shock that you’d be amazing at this, too.”

The princess placed her hand on his, and when he turned back to face her, she smiled warmly at him. “This was all you. I never would’ve been able to do this without your help. You should know that you’re amazing, too.”

‘You’ as in Prince James. Not Lance.

She didn’t love him. She loved the prince, and it was foolish for him to ever think otherwise.

As they finished their dessert, Lance wore a happy expression, but he couldn’t help the uneasy feeling that rose in his chest. He did his best to hide it, and he seemed to be succeeding – and yet, he couldn’t hide it from himself.

* * *

The third town was… not what James expected.

As the town entered their view, they could already see that something was awry. It was lit up with all kinds of lights, decked out in colorful decorations and banners. James wracked his brain for some holiday he might’ve forgotten in the midst of everything that’s happened, but his mind drew a blank.

It wasn’t until they finally entered that he realized that was being celebrated: it was _him_.

“Excuse me, sir?” James asked, calling to a man who seemed to be busy hanging ribbons on the buildings. “My friend and I are just passing through – What’s going on that’s so special?”

“Oh, why, it’s the prince’s wedding!” the man said haughtily. “He’s marrying the princess of Altea – Princess Allura, that’s her name. The whole city is celebrating in anticipation!”

“Is it normal to celebrate other people’s weddings?” Keith asked with a raised brow, and at his feet, Kosmo tilted his head in confusion.

“If they’re royalty, then yes!” the man said with a grin. “It’s a big deal in the kingdom. The last royal wedding was nearly thirty years ago when King Charles and Queen Maria got married, and _that_ was a party, I’ll tell you!”

Keith huffed. “I still don’t see why this is cause for celebration, especially on this scale.”

“It’s just a bit of excitement for us common folk,” said a woman carrying extra ribbons – presumably the man’s wife. “Most people are just happy about the alliance that’s forming. Others think the wedding is interesting.” The woman urged them closer, curling her finger towards herself as she leaned in and spoke with a whisper. “Lots of young ladies are mourning their dreams of marrying the prince,” she said with a soft chuckle, “including my daughter. Can’t blame her – I did the same when the king got married years back.”

“Oh,” James said in surprise. “I’m, uh, sorry for your loss. Both of you.”

The woman laughed. “It’ll do her better to hear that than me. I can bring her out to meet you, if you’d like. She’s just inside –”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Keith interrupted, pushing James along the street and away from the building, Kosmo following close behind.

James pushed Keith away with his elbow. “What was that for?”

“She was being weird,” Keith said defensively. “I just – I wanted to get away from her.”

“She wasn’t being weird,” James argued. “She was just being nice.”

“Offering to introduce you to her daughter seconds after meeting you? That’s weird.” Keith lifted a hand to James’ face, hovering it over the prince’s jaw for a moment before reaching for his hood and pulling it over his head. “You need to keep a low profile. Someone might recognize you.”

James rolled his eyes. “I’ve never been here before. I doubt these people have any idea how I look.”

Keith shot him a look as if to say, “ _Seriously_?” and instead of explaining, he simply pointed a finger behind him.

The prince turned around and was met with an enormous banner of his face, printed next to a portrait of who he could only assume was Princess Allura.

“Woah…” he said in awe.

“It’s pretty impressive,” Keith noted. “It looks just like you.”

“You think?” James asked. He turned to face Keith, looking over his shoulder to memorize the expression on the banner before copying it with his own face. “How about now?”

Keith snorted at the silly sight of James imitating himself with a hood over his head and dressed in common clothing, a far cry from the luxurious fabrics he was used to. “The resemblance is uncanny. Although, nothing beats the original.”

Even from under his hood, he could make out the bit of color that rose to the prince’s cheeks at his little comment. James shook his head, laughing quietly. “Shut up. You can’t just say stuff like that to an engaged man,” he joked, and when he turned around to look back at the banner, he missed Keith’s faltering smile.

“Sorry,” Keith said softly. “I didn’t –”

“I was just kidding, Keith,” James assured. “I don’t mind. Honestly.”

Keith lowered his gaze to the ground, his eyes locking with Kosmo’s – and despite him being a wolf, he could’ve sworn he saw a hint of sympathy in those golden eyes.

He moved closer to stand at James side and redirected his eyes upward to examine the banner again.

“That must be Princess Allura, huh?” James said, his eyes tracing each of her features.

He nodded. “She’s pretty.”

“She’s _beautiful_.”

Keith turned his head to look at the prince, expecting a look of amazement, one of someone completely lovestruck –

But when he saw James’ face, it was filled with regret, fear, and sadness.

“You’re not smiling,” Keith said. “It’s your wedding, your _fiancée_ – shouldn’t you be happy?”

“I should,” James said with a breathless laugh. “But I’m not.”

“What do you mean?” Keith asked. “You had me bring you all this way. You expect me to bring you to the castle. All of this – everything I’ve done to help you was because you didn’t want to miss your stupid fucking wedding and now, you’re telling me you’re not happy with it?” His hands curled into fists at his side, the nails digging crescents into his palms.

James whipped his head around and shot him the coldest glare he’d ever seen from the prince. “You think I chose this wedding? You think I chose my fiancée? I didn’t get a choice in this wedding other than preparations – decor, flowers, food, music. I didn’t choose to get married. I _chose_ to save my kingdom by sealing an alliance with Altea. The wedding is something that comes with it, whether I want it or not.”

“Oh, boo-hoo, you’re complaining about getting married off to a gorgeous princess from a neighboring kingdom? How fucking terrible,” Keith spat. “So many people are much worse off, and you’re here moping about an arranged marriage?”

“Right, because being forced to spend your entire life with someone you’ve never met before is so amazing, as long they’re pretty and royal,” James said in a bitter, sarcastic tone. “Maybe it doesn’t seem like such a big deal to you, but it’s a big deal to me. I’ve always dreamed of meeting someone and falling in love and _choosing_ who to marry. I’ve waited my whole life for something like that to happen because I don’t get much of a choice in anything else. Everything in my entire life is dependent on what’s best for other people, what other people want, what other people need.

“You think I’m above the law – that royalty can do whatever they want – but I live under the same rules that you do, if not more. I’m told when to eat. When to sleep. I have people following me at all times. I can’t leave the castle without someone escorting me. All I want is a little bit of freedom.

“There’s the illusion that royalty has all the freedom in the world. That we can do as we please and others merely live to serve us. But the truth is that a common man is freer than a king, because he’s not bound by the obligation of protecting others. The people serve the king, but the king serves all his people.

“The only reason I’m going through with this wedding is to protect _my_ people, and that includes _you_ , so don’t you dare complain about me being unhappy. I am your _prince_ , and you will _not_ speak to me like that.”

It was oddly cathartic to finally be able to vent his feelings over the wedding. At the castle, he couldn’t imagine how heartbroken his mother would be if she heard his displeasure with the arrangement and how deep it ran. He complained a bit to Adam, to Ryan, to Nadia, to Ina – but he never allowed himself to do so to the full extent of how he felt.

By the time James finished, he felt all his built-up anger and frustration over the wedding leave him, as if speaking it aloud finally released them. Tears slowly streamed down his cheeks and he found himself sniffling with a runny nose. As he dabbed at his eyes, he noticed Keith staring back at him with shock, Kosmo hiding behind his legs with flattened ears.

He blinked to clear his vision. “I – I’m sorry, Keith,” he muttered, and his voice was trembling. “I don’t know – I’m just – I –”

“Stop,” Keith said. “It’s – It’s okay. I’m really sorry, I didn’t know about… about the wedding and everything.”

“I’m sorry,” James repeated, shaking his head. “You didn’t need to hear all that. I didn’t mean to unload on you or anything. It’s just that –”

Keith placed both of his hands on James’ shoulders, shaking him slightly and drawing his gaze upwards. His eyes had lost any angry fire they had before, and the prince found a sense of comfort in the deep violet of his irises.

“You don’t have to apologize for getting upset. I was out of line. And you don’t have to apologize for spilling your feelings. Everyone needs to at some point.”

“I know, but – You didn’t deserve that.”

James looked back at him with glossy eyes – they looked deep blue and lilac in the dim light. Keith only had a moment to admire them before they closed and the prince leaned forward, moving closer and closer as he stepped towards him and –

He rested his chin on Keith’s shoulder, the fabric of his hood rubbing against his neck.

“I’m sorry,” James said under his breath. “I just – I need a moment.”

Keith hoped the prince couldn’t feel his heart racing against his chest. His arms were held out to not touch his body, and for a moment, he contemplated letting them fall to embrace James in a proper hug, but in the end, he decided against it. His hands hovered over the small of his back, and he sucked in a breath.

“Take your time,” he eventually said, and he heard James sniffle from where he rested near his ear. “It’s okay, Jamie.”

* * *

Shiro should’ve expected that his suggestion to find an inn would be met with objection.

Using the money that he grabbed from home, he paid for a room, two hot meals, and a night in the stables for the horse. When he came back outside with the key, Adam stood by with a grimace.

“You do remember that we have to sleep, right?” Shiro teased. “And so does the horse – poor thing has been traveling since yesterday. It deserves a break.”

When his horse was mentioned, Adam’s face softened, if only by a bit. “… Fine, you’re right. She deserves to rest the entire night.” He held up his hand, pointing at Shiro with a threatening look. “But we leave tomorrow, and we don’t stop until we reach the castle.”

“Sure,” Shiro said. “For now, though, let’s go inside. They’re serving dinner and your food’s going to go cold if you keep grumbling out here.”

They entered the inn and Shiro led him over to where the food was being served. It was a communal dining area set up like a buffet. Log tables were laid out and numerous groups sat at one, eating and chatting together.

Adam frowned at the idea of sharing his meal with complete strangers and chose a spot on the end of the table, setting his bag on the bench next to him before digging into his food.

Shiro sat across from him on the other side, waiting expectantly for Adam to start a conversation, but the other man simply ate his food in silence, not even batting an eye at him.

Well, if Adam wasn’t going to start a conversation, Shiro would take it upon himself to do.

“We’ve been traveling together for almost a day now and I know practically nothing about you,” he said, tearing into a freshly baked roll. “You said you work at the castle, so… what’s that like?”

Adam didn’t even look up from his food. “I’m Prince James’ personal royal advisor. I take care of his every need, help him make decisions in meetings and act as his private council. I sometimes take care of matters in the nearby village, but most of my work revolves around the prince.”

He continued eating while Shiro waited for him to redirect the question back at him, but it wasn’t until too much silence had passed that he thought to look up.

“And you?” he asked in a flat tone. “What do you do?”

“How kind of you to ask,” Shiro said, grinning, and although he rolled his eyes, he could tell that Adam was amused as well. “I work with Keith as a blacksmith. He comes up with all the designs and I help him make them. It’s no dream job like working in a castle, but it pays the bills.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “What’s your dream job?”

That seemed to catch him off guard. “Oh, well – I’ve always wanted to join the royal guard,” Shiro said with a shy laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ever since I was a little kid, I dreamed of joining.”

“Why don’t you?” Adam asked. He shrugged and returned his attention back to his food. “You’ve got the build and the muscle. As a blacksmith, I’m sure you know a bit about combat. You’d probably fit perfectly.”

“I applied years ago,” Shiro said. “I didn’t get in.”

“What?” That was enough to grab his attention. “Why not?”

“Eh, that’s not really important,” he said, brushing it off. “I’m happy with where I am now. Living out in the countryside is really peaceful. The work is hard, but it’s a nice challenge and nothing is more rewarding than making people happy with what I’ve created.”

Adam tapped his fork against the plate. “That’s nice… But I still think you’d make a good addition to the royal guard,” he said. “I can talk to Admiral Sanda when I get back to the castle about letting you apply again, if you’d want.”

Shiro’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s – I appreciate the offer, but it’s alright. I’m fine with where I am and what I’m doing. Besides… I can’t leave Keith. If I go, he’d be all alone. I can’t do that to him.”

“Are you sure?” Adam asked. “You can both move – a guard’s salary is more than enough –”

“He won’t leave,” Shira admitted. “He won’t leave that house. He won’t move back to the castle village.” His voice was soft. “I’m thankful for the offer, truly. But I can’t accept.”

Adam bit his lip. “Fine. I understand.”

He didn’t.

* * *

It took a bit of time before James was able to pull himself together. He rested on Keith’s shoulder quietly, and although it was probably only a few minutes, it felt like an eternity. When James finally pulled back to dry his eyes and wipe his nose – and somehow, he looked like nothing had even happened – he felt a weight lift off his shoulders – both literally and physically.

The two traveled deeper into the town with Kosmo running by their side, admiring all the lovely decorations and booths selling memorabilia. There were multiple vendors selling pretty lanterns. Some were selling paintings of the prince and princess, while others sold their kingdoms’ crests. There were numerous selling cuisine from the different kingdoms.

As they walked, Keith noticed that James ignored anything that was obviously tied to the wedding. He admired the lanterns, he tried samples of the food – but when it came to the paintings, banners, prints, posters – he avoided them like the plague.

When they came across a flower stand, he ran right over to look at the variety of bouquets.

“Oh, look!” he said excitedly, carefully brushing a hand against the petals. “Roses! They’re my favorite.”

“They’re the prince’s favorite as well,” said the old man behind the booth.

“What a coincidence,” James said with a small laugh. He tugged on Keith’s arm. “Look, they have all kinds of different colors!”

The old man nodded. “Yep, picked them all myself. One rose is three gold. A bouquet of a dozen is thirty gold.”

Keith watched as James admired the different roses, bending over to get a closer look at their lovely blooms. He was so fascinated, taking his time in observing each and every color and shade of the roses.

“You know, each color has a different meaning,” James said as he slowly pulled a white rose from a basket.

“What do the colors mean?” Keith asked, his eyes catching on a deep red rose, its petals perfectly curled.

James sniffed the white rose in his hands, a small smile on his face. “White represents purity and innocence. They’re also represent young love and eternal loyalty, which is why they’re often used for weddings.” He cupped the flower in his right hand, the outer petals brushing against his palm. “These are my favorite.”

He looked up, pointing to a basket of similarly colored flowers. “These are ivory roses. They look almost identical, but they represent thoughtfulness and gracefulness. There’s not really a romantic connotation with these.”

Keith listened intently as James went through the different colors, his voice so passionate and sweet as he spoke.

“Lavender roses represent love at first sight and enchantment. They’re good if you want to let someone know you have a crush on them,” James continued. “Yellow represents good luck, happiness, and warmth. They actually used to represent jealousy, but they have a much better meaning now. Blue roses are really unique – they actually represent that! They also represent the unattainable and the impossible. Oh, and the pink ones,” he began, “vary on the shade. A darker pink means appreciation, a middle pink means grace and gentleness, and a light pink means friendship and sweetness. It’s so interesting how the meanings can change so much based on the color.”

“What about red?” Keith asked, reaching out to pull the red rose he had been eying from the basket. “I think these are my favorite.”

“They are very beautiful.” James smiled, looking down at the red rose with a look of admiration. “Red roses represent a lot of things: passion, true love, courage, desire. It’s a classic way to say, ‘I love you’ to someone and is one of the ultimate romantic gestures – at least in terms of flowers, that is.” With a soft sigh, James twirled the white rose in his hands before gently putting it back into the basket. “In the past, people would send flowers and bouquets with these meanings in mind. They’d use the different colors of roses to express their emotions for the recipient. Now, it’s not really as common a practice. Most people just pick based on what they think looks pretty – although, I can’t fault them for that.”

Keith pursed his lips, twisting the stem of the rose between his fingers. He glanced down at Kosmo, who stared at the rose with interest and nudged at his leg as if to tell him something. After running the idea through his head for longer than he should, Keith finally reached into the pouch on his belt, pulled out three gold, and dropped the money on the counter.

“Here,” he said, holding out the rose for James to take. “For you.”

James stared at it incredulously. “Keith, I – Your money –”

“Yeah, it’s _my_ money. I get to choose how to spend it,” he defended, “and I choose to spend it on this.”

The prince reluctantly reached for the rose, its deep red so vibrant and rich even in the light of the setting sun – and when he finally took the rose in his own hands, he smiled fondly at it.

“Thank you,” James said, holding it close to his chest. “The color is lovely – I can see why you chose this one.”

Keith bit the inside of his cheek. “Sure,” he said softly, and he thought to himself how the prince was wrong about his assumption. How he assumed that he had chosen the rose for the beauty of its color rather than the meaning behind it.

But he couldn’t bring himself to correct him.

“If you were to give a rose to someone,” Keith began, “who would you give it to?”

James furrowed his brows as he thought to himself. “Hm, maybe my mother. I’d give her a peach one – those represent gratitude and sincerity. Or, I might give an ivory rose to Adam. They’re his favorite.”

“Other than them,” Keith said. “Someone… other than family. Or close to family, I guess.”

“Oh. Well,” James said, deep in thought, “probably Princess Allura. I’ve never met her before, so I can’t say much for how I feel about her, but I guess a pink rose will do.”

Keith frowned. “Princess Allura?”

“Yes, Princess Allura,” James confirmed. He looked up at Keith with concern. “Is… Is something wrong?”

“No,” Keith said quickly. “It’s just – with what happened earlier, I figured –”

“I didn’t choose to marry her,” the prince said, “and if given the option, I’d choose not to. But I don’t have much of a choice, so if I have to marry her, I might as well try my best to make it work.” He scoffed. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll fall in love with her and everything will turn out alright.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Keith stared at the rose in the prince’s hands, his jaw tight.

Tomorrow, he’ll be saying goodbye to the prince and they’ll never see each other again. Next week, the prince will be married. And by the next week, he’ll have probably forgotten all about Keith.

And yet, Keith knew he wouldn’t forget about him. He couldn’t, not even if he wanted.

He should’ve given him the blue rose.

* * *

Lance and the princess finally decided to call it a night when their candle had gone out.

Allura yawned, covering her mouth with the sleeve of her nightgown as she stood to leave the library. “It’s getting quite late. I should probably head to bed, and you should, too. You do have your lessons early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Lance said, marking their place in the book with a ribbon. “Wouldn’t want to fall asleep in the middle of a meeting, right?”

The princess laughed. “That would be quite embarrassing,” she agreed. “Anyways, it’s been wonderful spending time with you. I look forward to what tomorrow brings for us.”

“Me, too! And I especially look forward to what next chapter brings.”

“You have the loveliest sense of humor, Prince James,” she complimented. As she left the room, she turned around to wave one final goodbye, blowing a kiss to him at the table before disappearing through the doorway.

Heat rose to his face, and he brought a hand to his blushing cheek as he smiled to himself, so wrapped up in his own thoughts and feelings that he didn’t notice the chair sliding beside him.

“So,” Nadia said in a teasing manner, “looks like things are going well between you and the princess, huh?”

“You’ve managed to make her like you, so that’s good,” Ryan added, him and Ina coming to stand behind them. “It’d be bad if James came back to a fiancée who hated him.”

 _James’ fiancée_.

Lance felt his heart drop, his smile fade, his chest tighten. “Prince James… he and the princess are getting married next week.”

“Yes,” Ina said, “and the preparations are going as planned. Everything is precisely on schedule, if not a bit ahead.”

“Is it… Is it bad that I don’t want them to get married?” he asked softly.

Nadia sent him a shocked look. “I don’t think so – He doesn’t want them to get married, either. Why do you ask?”

“Because,” Lance began, and his tongue felt like lead as he tried to voice the words that he knew were true, “I think… I’m falling in love with the princess.”

The others fell silent, the only sound in the grand room being the fast beating in his chest and his heavy breaths. A hand was placed on his shoulder – Ryan’s, he guessed – in an attempt for comfort. Nadia wrapped her arms around him to give him a hug, and he felt Ina pat his back gently.

“We’re so sorry,” Nadia said. “We shouldn’t have dragged you into this.”

“It’s okay, none of you knew this would happen. Besides, I agreed to this,” Lance said. “And the prince – He’s still out there somewhere. I need to be here in his place to keep the alliance from falling apart. It’s just that… I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

Nadia gave him a look of sympathy as she pulled away, one arm still wrapped around him. “We don’t know where James is or if he’s okay. It could be multiple more days, it could be a week –”

“I don’t think I’ll last that long,” Lance admitted with a weak laugh. “I want to help, but –”

He couldn’t force the words out. He couldn’t say how his heart ached at the idea of the princess marrying someone else that didn’t love her in return.

In a week, she would marry Prince James thinking he was him, that he was the one who spent so much time with her during the past few days. All their memories together would cease to be his own, but rather the prince’s. After all, the princess had never met _Lance_ before, and she probably never would.

“This probably sounds silly,” Lance said, hugging his book to his chest as he curled up in his chair. “We just met yesterday, and we’ve only spent a couple of days together – I shouldn’t be falling in love with her, at least not yet. But, for some reason, I can’t help but feel like she’s special, that she’s the one. Like we were meant to meet, but we also _weren’t_.”

“Fate works in mysterious ways,” Ina said. “As does love. All the knowledge in the world would be useless to predict either one.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he muttered. “I couldn’t predict that any of this would happen…”

* * *

“What do you mean this is the _only_ room available?” Keith asked the inn owner, his eyes burning with frustration. He leaned over the desk and dangled the key he was given beside his face, his knuckles white.

“I’m sorry, sir, we’re completely booked because of the wedding celebrations. Lots of travelers have come to town for the festivities,” the woman explained calmly. “We only have singles left. If you’d like two separate beds, we’d recommend booking another room.”

“For how much?”

“One bedroom is thirty gold a night, two would just be sixty.”

Keith slammed his hand against the counter, the room keys jingling against each other. “I don’t have that kind of money – Can’t you give a discount? Say, forty gold for both?”

“I can’t do that, sir,” the woman said. “The deal is sixty. If you can’t afford it, you’ll have to make do with the single room.”

“But –”

“Keith, give it a rest,” James interjected. He smiled apologetically to the woman behind the desk, pulling Keith away forcibly. “The one room will be fine.”

“No,” Keith argued, moving towards the door. “We’ll just find somewhere else to stay.”

James yanked him back, the grip on his arm firm. “There’s nowhere else to go, Keith. Almost everything is full, and this is the only place with open rooms that _also_ allows pets,” he said, gesturing down to where Kosmo sat obediently at their feet, his tail wagging to and fro. “Now, please, be a gentleman and pay the woman, okay? I want to sleep.”

Keith jerked his arm back and grumbled to himself as he threw the money on the counter, taking the key and trudging down the hall. The prince followed behind with a skip in his step at the prospect of having an actual _bedroom_ for the first time in days.

When they reached the room, Keith pushed the door open and ushered the prince and Kosmo inside, locking the door and leaning against it while the other two stood in awe.

The prince immediately ran to the bed to fall face-first against the mattress. “Oh, bed, how I’ve missed you,” he said, laughing when Kosmo jumped onto the covers beside him. He pulled the wolf into his arms as he shook off his boots and made himself comfortable. “This room is really nice,” he noted, admiring the simple décor on the walls and tables.

“Not worth thirty gold, I’ll tell you,” Keith complained. He stepped awkwardly into the center of the room, hugging his arms around himself.

“Why are you just standing there?” James asked innocently. With a small hop, he scooted to one side of the bed and pat his hand against the open space. “Come on, let’s go to sleep. I’m tired and we have to be well-rested when we finally reach the castle. Can’t go home looking like a mess.”

Keith frowned. “No, it’s okay. I’ll just sleep on the floor. You take the bed.”

“What? That’s not fair. You paid for the room; you should get to sleep on the bed.”

“Yeah, and you’re royalty. You shouldn’t have to sleep at an inn. But here we are.”

James rolled his eyes and continued to beckon Keith over. “It’s not a big deal. Just come over here so we can both go to sleep.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little – I don’t know – _inappropriate_?” Keith said, clearly trying to stall. “I mean, sleeping with the prince when he’s engaged to another woman – That’s got to be breaking multiple laws.”

By the annoyed look James sent him, he knew he wasn’t getting anywhere.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a deep breath. “Look, Keith, I’m not going to argue with you anymore,” he said sternly, “You paid thirty gold for this room – which _includes the bed_ – and I refuse to deal with your complaining about not getting a good night’s rest, because we _both_ know you didn’t sleep last night either. So, you are going to sleep in this bed _tonight_ , and we are going to the castle tomorrow well-rested and lively so that I can finally go home, see my mother and friends, and meet the girl I’m marrying. And, if it makes you feel any better –” The prince grabbed a couple of the pillows from the head of the bed, lining them along the center of the mattress. “– we can have this barrier between us. Now, will you _please_ just get on the bed and go to sleep?”

With hesitant movements, Keith stepped closer, sitting on the edge of the mattress and lowering himself down onto the blankets.

“See, was that so hard?” James asked, his elbow propped against the pillows to support his head. He smiled from behind the wall of pillows, and with perfect timing, Kosmo jumped between them to land on the pillows, making himself comfortable.

Keith rested his arms on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling, avoiding the prince’s eye. “Good night,” he said in a low voice.

“Hm, good night, Keith,” James said with a yawn, and he let his head fall against the plush pillows, a hand buried in Kosmo’s soft fur as he began to doze off. “Sleep well…”

After such a long day, the prince didn’t take long to fall asleep. Even Kosmo took only a few moments to go to sleep on the feather-filled pillows.

Keith, on the other hand, found himself still staring at the ceiling long after, too lost in his thoughts to fall into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp... sorry for the long wait! Full disclosure: I got Animal Crossing and have been spending way too much time on it. But I've gotten my island to a point where I'm kind of pleased with how it looks, so I'll probably be spending less time on that and more time on writing/drawing. :)
> 
> I hope this chapter was worth the wait tho! I realized I hadn't planned it out as much as I thought so it took a while to figure out what was actually happening, but I think it turned out pretty well in the end and it's much longer than I expected. Things are starting to get a bit angsty, but I promise everything will turn out happy in the end!


End file.
